Returning to the hardwood is a cinch

By ROBERT MORGAN

I will not soon forget July 26, 2006.

It was a Wednesday that I spent with a few of the most important people in my life - my wife and my high school girls basketball team. I can remember feeling embarrassed, ashamed and worthless that hot afternoon in Irvine, Calif.

My weight finally prevented me from getting around during our national tournament. We had just arrived at Concordia University for our first game when reality slapped me in the face.

The coliseum sits on a hill in the middle of the campus. The only way to it was by walking up a steady hill that wrapped around the building for about 150 yards.

It took me nearly 30 minutes to walk the same distance that the rest of our group made in less than five. I had to sit down three times along the path because I was out of breath, sweltering and simply could not take another step.

In the back of my mind I hoped we would lose the first game because we would play an hour later. A victory meant a four-hour delay and lunch away from the coliseum with our group.

I didn't ever want to walk that 150-yard stretch of sidewalk again. I would not make it.

We won that game and the lunch gathering was planned, as expected. However, I lied and said I was not hungry and that I didn't think I would be until dinner.

The parents knew differently. So did my wife, Marissa, and my assistant coach, Frank Simon. The parents never told me they knew, but there was no doubt in my mind. They even offered to drive me up the grassy hill in a truck to the front door.

I declined. It would have been an added embarrassment to an already difficult situation. I told the parents and the girls I was staying behind to scout.

My assistant didn't want me to be left out so he joined me. We sat under some trees on top of the hill and talked. We talked about the game, the next opponent, the weather and a few other things. But we eventually discussed what was on both of our minds the whole time - my weight.

He never wanted to say anything before because he didn't know how I would take it. While looking everywhere but directly at him, I told my friend I needed to have Lap-Band surgery. I didn't know how to pay for it, but if I didn't do something about it, this could be my last summer.

He agreed. Simon said our coaching relationship had made us more like family than friends. He, like my wife and my team, didn't want to lose me because of my weight.

I received the greatest gift one month after that reality check. My family and two close friends made everything possible and I had surgery in September.

Nine months later and 150 pounds lighter, I knew my 12th year of coaching would be a much better experience for me and the 30 girls that allow me to be their leader. In May, my friend and co-worker Joe Duty and I covered the state track meet in Austin and enjoyed some fun times on 6th Street. I was on my feet nonstop for three days.

My black tennis shoes had never clocked so many miles and my feet didn't hurt at the end of the day. This gave me the strength and confidence that this would be my most enjoyable basketball season in more than six years. I spent at least 25 hours a week in a gym from March through July. The practices, games and tournaments that previously left me physically exhausted and with swollen feet were a thing of the past.

The first big event was in Plano, a favorite stop for the girls because the facility has 12 basketball courts, ice hockey and soccer all under one roof ... and of course, boys. It was quite an experience for me, seeing so many teams and coaches that I had developed relationships with prior to my surgery.

I got more handshakes and pats on the back that first afternoon than I had in the last five years combined. Even one of my favorite officials was not only impressed, but joked that he could throw a few more technical fouls my way since I'm going to be around a little longer.

The real fun was coaching. Jumping off the bench during an exciting play and pacing the sideline were just a few of the things I caught myself doing again. It never hit me that I had not had that kind of fun in a long time.

The most noticeable difference was the attention. The stares I had been accustomed to in the past were few and far between. Whether it was girls from the opposing team or spectators, I had grown used to the fact that any direction I looked there would be someone looking at me with a confused, gut-wrenching look of, "You are too fat to know anything about basketball so what are you doing?"

The weeks rolled on and so did the fun. I realized a little more each game how much I enjoyed volunteering my weekend life for the girls. It was more than watching them earn scholarships and win trophies. I felt more like a teacher again rather than a chaperone on the bench.

My personal problems diminished, but eating was still the biggest challenge. Being on the road and in the gym for 12 hours a day is a great reason to eat fast food and in restaurants. We all use that excuse.

In past seasons, I hurried out of bed at 6 in the morning so we could swing by the donut shop before our first game two hours later. My order consisted of two sausage rolls, an apple fritter and either a chocolate cake donut or a maple bar. Oh, and definitely a chocolate milk or a diet soft drink (a lot of good the diet drink did with that meal).

Lunch would typically be served in a drive-thru line at Wendy's, McDonald's or Chick-Fil-A. Dinner was often at a restaurant with my assistant, his family and the team. Chicken fried steak was my typical order no matter where we ate.

But this summer was different. Breakfast was a cup of grapes or watermelon, and if I had time to cook before we left for the game, I scrambled one egg instead. I was stuffed.

I also shaved about 900 calories off my previous lunch choices. Those May and June meals were either a soft protein bar or the meat from a child-size hamburger at a fast-food joint. No bread, no fries and no drink - just four ounces of meat.

I didn't need a menu for the evening meal. Half a salad was all I needed to satisfy my appetite. Sometimes, for variety, I'd order a portion of grilled chicken.

I stopped by the hospital for my monthly weigh-in and I tipped the scale at 353 pounds, down 156 since my surgery nine months ago. However, I had only lost one pound in the previous three weeks and my appetite slowly returned so I scheduled a Lap-Band adjustment.

I saw Dr. Curtis Mosier on May 24 and he gave my fourth fill. I received 8cc this time, which was two more than the last fill in the spring. As usual, I was back on liquids for a couple days because of the tightness but it wasn't long before I could resume eating my lettuce.

It was still hard to watch the girls, my family and friends eat the way I used to at our team meals. Those cheese fries covered in bacon bits or the brownie sundaes the team orders all the time just make my toes curl.

I now just close my eyes and think about the pain and embarrassment I have endured. I no longer need that food or what it represents. I hear it call my name all the time, but I stopped listening nine months ago.

Plus, I had the final part of my summer coming up soon. June and July are traveling months for my team and my family. We had a trip to Corpus Christi on deck, followed by the big one - Laguna Beach, the grand finale.

In the past I would rather die of a stroke than deal with the agony and stress of traveling as an obese man.

Squeezing into the airplanes, asking for extra seat belt extensions and the long walks around airports made me want to give up coaching. The California experience made me cringe at each thought of the journey ahead.

We loaded up for South Texas in mid-June and it was only three hours into the trip before the travel pains began. Is this a sign that flying to Laguna Beach a month later would be impossible? I got my answer when we arrived in Corpus Christi.