For Mom

The story of Del Rio’s unlikely basketball star, and how he overcame the loss of his greatest fan By Aaron Harris Managing Editor/Feature WriterTick - tock. Tick – tock... ...Seconds methodically roll off of a clock. One minute passes.. then another. The day goes by, many with so much of our seemingly mundane lives in question, but the one constant is the fact that that second-hand will make its systematic movement to the next increment – many times without being noticed. In most people’s every day lives, we don’t pay much attention to these niceties - it’s just a second or two in time. We have so many every day that we take for granted and don’t care to notice.In the game of basketball, that second or two can be an eternity. Whether you have a second or two left can be the difference between being a revered champion – and forever remembered for that moment in time – or the runner up, which gets you no trophy – no plaque – no place in historical lore. Those few seconds are the beacon of hope – and if there’s time left, then there is a chance. The fact is, in basketball, you know how much time you have left to change the outcome. The clock is the key factor, and those few precious seconds that can remain are venerated. In life, however, there is no such clock to corral our perceived victories and defeats; there are no measured interludes of time from which to garner our hopes and our dreams. There’s just time – and sometimes, inexplicably, it just runs out. A young, teenaged basketball player sits at his mother’s side holding her hand as she peacefully grasps onto her last hollow breaths of life. At this point in his adolescent life, all he has known in regards to time has been the seconds on the clock of a basketball game. He has always had the ability to affect the outcome of those games and those concurrent moments in time on the court, but now he can see the clock ticking on the life of his mother: his closest friend. There is no changing the outcome – she is almost gone, and he knows it – and in the midst of all the indignation and spitefulness that could exist, he finds within himself a few words to tell her. “Just let go, Mom. Just let go, and I’ll be up there to see you soon. Not yet, but later.”He hopes in those last few moments she heard him, as she left this life. Time ran out - and for reasons known to any who have never experienced such a loss - those seconds passed and ticks on a random clock take a whole new meaning. It’s been said time and time again by many of the so-called know-it-all sports pundits in the world that basketball is a team sport that is dominated by giants. Really, it is a pretty simple logic: The taller you are - the closer you are to the basket, and henceforth, the more able you are to play the game that hoists a hoop exactly 10 feet off the ground. There’s another cliché of the same vein that is forever etched into the minds of those associated with the game – you can’t teach height. Coaches have echoed that phrase for years and years, and for the most part, it rings true. If you were to just see Zachary Poteat in public, your first impression would probably be that he was your normal high school kid. He has long, unshorn hair and works at Sonic part-time. He hangs out with his friends and his girlfriend in his free time. He goes to school, and other than that he does normal teenage things. You would not initially think that this roughly 6 foot 4 inch, lanky kid could ever be the hard-working center and heart and soul of a Texas 5A basketball team. That’s right – 6 feet 4 inches. Center. Now, most people would be inclined to believe that 6-4 is a nice height – well above average – and that stature would command respect in most daily inclinations. Tall is good - and 6-4 is, well, tall. 6-4, however, doesn’t command much respect in the grind of the post-position at the 5A level. In recent years, Texas 5A centers have spoiled big-time NCAA teams with 6-10-ish, agile, strong, athletic centers – with huge wingspans and versatile abilities on the court. These are the mammoth athletes that anchor the middle of teams at the elite high school classification in the state. To be honest, you’d be hard-pressed to find many 3A centers smaller than 6 feet 6 inches, let alone at the 5A level.Moreover, you definitely wouldn’t think that Zach has been through more than any of us can imagine any human being going through before our 17th birthday. Just meeting the young man, you would have never had any idea.Zach has always been talented at the game of basketball. Such information shouldn’t be a surprise to any onlooker. His roots go straight back to the Tar Heel Country of North Carolina – a pure basketball haven. Born there in the late 1980s, Zach was transplanted to Southwest Texas at a young age along with his family when his father, Rob, of the United States Air Force, was transferred. Del Rio is a long way from Chapel Hill in many regards. Still, names like Dean Smith, Michael Jordan, James Worthy, and Roy Williams resonate with an air of sacredness in the Poteat household, which stands just miles away from the Mexican Border, as opposed to the Atlantic Ocean. The story for Zach Poteat inherently begins when he gained his first real basketball prominence his freshman year, when he made the Varsity squad at Del Rio High School. It was quite a feat, indeed. Only the chosen few of talented young athletes have the aptitude and potential to wear a varsity warm-up as a 9th grader. Heck, Michael Jordan didn’t make varsity as a freshman, and was cut from the varsity team his sophomore year. If they had only known. The then coach, Russell Frasier, seemed to know something about Zach, however. Very few freshmen garner the trust of coaches to play a whole lot of minutes – but that wasn’t the case for Zach. While he didn’t play a huge amount, Zach was able to give his team valuable playing-time when he did get onto the court – giving fans a taste of the player to come. His mom was there at every game she could, and was his biggest fan.But, it wasn’t as wonderful as it might have seemed. While Zach enjoyed the burgeoning success and impending excitement of making the varsity squad as a freshman, a demanding battle entered his life at home almost as suddenly as his high school basketball success had begun. His mother, Heidi, had been stricken with cancer in October just prior to the beginning of the season. She would be gone in six months.Fair? No. Then again, as the saying goes, who said life is? Or that it is supposed to be. Yet, families aren’t made to have to deal with such things. It is supposed to happen a certain way: a happy couple marry, have kids, and grow old to watch their kids have kids and then get to be happy grandparents. That’s the way you “draw it up,” so to speak. And then she was gone. Just like that. A mother, a confidante, a best friend. Vanished so fast, with no real explanation or justification other than the medical obligatory jargon the doctors tell loved ones. The doctors couldn’t even really agree on how the cancer had started: some thought it was breast cancer, some thought it was from her lungs – but whatever the origin of the illness was, it had spread throughout her body in a very short amount of time. Six months was all it took the horrible disease to take her from her family. It might have been fitting that young Zach was the only person at his mother’s side when she passed. While his father, Rob, supplies the discipline and direction in his life for the most part, Heidi gave him his zest for life – his energy – and his passion. “She was so full of life, and kept me in a good mood anytime I played – whatever happened – good or bad,” recalls Zach of his mother. “It hurt me so much to see her in so much pain. I wanted her to be free of it all, and to be at peace.”While the cancer took a rapid deteriorating effect on her body, Zach remembers it never dampened her spirits. She was there as much as her health would allow to see her son compete with the big boys for the first time. She made it to about half of his games that year, and was even able to see him start a few games towards the end of the year – when Zach was promoted to the starting lineup due to a couple of older players’ grades issues. During his time of greatest personal anguish, he was able to compete at a high level, and was able to do what very few athletes are able to do at the high school level: start as a freshman. Even though it was only for a few short games, it was a lasting gift for Heidi: to see her Zach dawn a varsity jersey – play at the state’s highest schoolboy level – and make his impact on games.Zach’s freshman year playing for DRHS ended somewhat unceremoniously, and didn’t include a miraculous run into the playoffs. Heidi passed away on her 40th birthday shortly after the conclusion of the season on April 26, 2004 with her favorite basketball player at her side. For the young teenager, Zach, those few seconds in time became a burden of anguish in the subsequent reality that followed the loss of his mother. “Right when it happened, I was angry at myself, and at God,” he recalled. Yet, unlike many children who go through a traumatic, all-too-soon loss of a parent, it was his faith that persevered and gave him an indelible perspective on his loss. “It only took me an hour after she passed to realize that things are okay – she’s in heaven – she’s in a better place – and she’s happy now.”Zach says that he knows one day, soon enough, he’ll see her again.  The immediate impact of Heidi’s death affected Zach’s play on the court. He was very soon out in the gym again – playing pick-up games, and playing the game he loves. He admits that his experiences changed his attitude. The first couple of weeks after his mother’s death, when he played he did so with a reckless abandon, encompassed by the sincere anger he felt deep inside. “I got a mean-streak out there all of the sudden. Since then, I don’t feel pain when I play. I don’t feel like I succeeded unless I leave the court with a bloody nose or bruised up.” Still, he had to learn to cope: “I had to learn to contain the anger I had and use it to my advantage.” Such is the passion that leads 6-4 post players to be effective at the 5A level when they go against guys who outweigh them by 60 pounds and have a six-inch height-advantage. “I just started to play like there was no tomorrow every time I stepped out there.” He now knew all-too-well that there are no guarantees in life.Zach went on to improve and become a starter for the Del Rio Rams his sophomore year and be a significant part of their run to the third round of the playoffs in Class 5A. His junior year was a rebuilding year for the team – due to key losses to graduation – as the Rams missed the playoffs and had a losing season. 2005-2006 was an arduous year for Zach as well, as he was ineligible to play much of the season because of grades. “I really let my team down. There were a few of those games that I know we could have came out on the winning end if I were out there. I’m not going to do that to my teammates again,” Zach anguished. Poteat came back from academic ineligibility to play most of district-season to little avail, as the Rams struggled through a three-win season in league play.Joseph Gonzalez headed to Del Rio with a new outlook in mind. The successful coach who led United South High School in his hometown of Laredo to prominence over his 17-year tenure there had no real reason to leave the place where he had so vehement made a name for himself. Yet, the veteran coach felt a need for a change – and a new challenge.Not long after accepting the position as Head Boys Basketball Coach at DRHS this spring, Gonzalez found a long-haired kid waiting in angst to get acquainted. “Zach was the first player I met when I came to Del Rio. He seemed so excited to meet with me and find out what I expected from him and of the team,” Gonzalez said. Zach seems excited about his new coach and a new outlook for the team as well. “Coach Gonzalez is just what this team needs: Discipline. We lacked discipline as a team in many key moments last season,” Zach said. One thing is for sure – Gonzalez knows discipline. “I took a team to the regional quarterfinals at United in 2001 that had far less talent than here at Del Rio. My teams play physical and play disciplined. With the talent that is already in place here, I expect a lot of good things,” said Gonzalez. Consider that, and the 250 wins for Gonzales at United South – with six playoff appearances – the Rams have a coach now who has been there and done that. He seems like a great fit for a “blue collar worker” like Zach Poteat, as Gonzalez calls him. But the evident compatibility between Poteat and Gonzalez is much more deep than what transpires on the basketball court. Coach Gonzalez has dealt with his own personal tragedies throughout his life. “I lost my mom five years ago, and I lost my father about 24 years ago. My dad died at a very young age,” explains the coach. “I wasn’t quite as young as Zach when I lost my dad, but I can’t begin to imagine what he feels and what he went through that year. No young man should have to go through anything like that.” Gonzalez can definitely relate to the sadness that comes and goes, and dealing with such a loss. Joseph is thankful that his player has dealt with it in such a steadfast manner. He’s also had to deal with a player dealing with loss in a much different way. “A few years ago I had a kid who lost his father, and people grieve in different ways. This player didn’t want to play for me any more – and while I wanted him to, I couldn’t make him. He told me, ‘Coach, I just can’t stop thinking about my dad out there,’ and I said ‘Okay. It’s alright. Go on.. I understand, and I am here for you if you need me for anything, but I wont push you to play.’” Needless to say, basketball goes on – as does life. It’s just a matter of how one deals with the impending ups and downs; but one thing remains. Basketball will always take a backseat to life. Losing a game pales in comparison to losing a parent – or any loved one. Poteat and Gonzalez haven’t really talked about their similar journeys to one-another, as it has been nothing but the business of winning and getting the Rams back on the winning track since the new coach has arrived, but they are both very eager to talk to a third-party about the connection they do have on that level. It’s not so much a dramatic, end-all story of shared inspiration in the face of incredible adversity – but more an unspoken understanding: Hey – I’ve been there, I know how you feel – and I’m here for you if you need me – now let’s go do something great. Zach doesn’t seem to be concerned with the ballyhoo and popularity contests that are stereotyped with high school life. He has a “serious” girlfriend – of which his father, Rob, rolls his eyes at the mention of and the use of such resolute language. But, Zach if Zach is anything, he is frank and sincere, and he holds firm that he cares about his girlfriend a lot and with her company can escape the madness of basketball every now and then. He works part-time at Sonic, like many normal kids do. He is upbeat and exquisitely mature for his age. He’s the overachieving, 6-4, 5A center - who doesn’t accomplish anything on the court without blood and sweat – and you wont hear an ill word out of him as far as ‘the hand he has been dealt’ is concerned.He has a lot of his dad in him – the stalwart military man who pushes him to be disciplined and work hard for every inch. He has a lot of his mom in him – the vibrant, positive passion for life, which drives him to endear those around him.The impending basketball season will provide Zach his last chance to play and lead the Del Rio Rams to a playoff run. He considers himself a leader – but it might more fittingly be said that he is the heart and soul of the team. He wouldn’t admit it, but this is his team – he’s been through a playoff run before – and this is his last chance to make waves with the Rams. Other great players have natural quickness and skill to harness their basketball talents – and while Zach’s quickness at a smaller size helps him in the post – you can’t teach size. His intense and energetic style of play in the paint has earned him the nickname “The Beast” with his teammates and onlookers.Poteat is excited and anxious for his final season, as are the rest of the Rams. Yet, unlike other players, his enthusiasm is tempered by a point-of-view that involves the greater picture. “I think of her every time I’m on the court – all the time. I think of what it would be like for her to be here now and see me play.” While Zach knows his mom is gone and isn’t there in person – her presence is felt with every jump shot, every lay-up, and every rebound. People pay tribute to their loved-ones in many different ways: writers use a pen and pad or a keyboard, artists use a palette and paintbrush, singers use their voices or instruments. Zach does it with a basketball and a lot of heart. Anyone who watches the “little big-man” play can easily see an adoring homage to Heidi any time he steps on the basketball court. Questions or comments? Contact Aaron Harris directly.