Later on, we were playing at Marietta High School. Charlie Hood was the coach there, a living legend in Atlanta-area high school ball. His team at the time featured Dale Ellis, who went on to the University of Tennessee and hit a lot of 3-pointers for the Seattle SuperSonics. A lot of people forget that Dale had a twin brother named Darryl, who was an exceptional athlete in his own right.

And both Dale and Darryl were on this team. Marietta was a powerhouse, ranked second in the state.

Marietta had us down by 25 points at their place, and time was winding down. I called time out, and everybody came running over to the bench.

"Guys," I said. "Remember what Bart Starr said about champions? He said that you can always tell a champion, no matter if he's up 30 or down 30. He's still playing and giving the best that he's got. The game's never over. Remember when he said that?"

Said all the players in unison, "Yes, sir!"

"Well, this game's over," I told them. "We're getting beat like dogs."

They all looked at me, dumbfounded.

A guy on my team named Russell Simmons - I loved him for being such a competitor - spoke up. "C'mon, coach, we can still win!"

"Nope, game's over," I repeated. "We're down 25 points with a minute to play, and there's no 30-point shot in the rulebook. We're beat."

"But here's what we're going to do," I continued. "We're going to have some fun for the rest of the night. We're not going to let them destroy us, we're not going to be down and out and unhappy because they beat us like a bass drum. We're going to leave here happy. So who wants to bloomer-leg one?"

The players were stunned. They didn't know what I was talking about.

"Ummm, coach, what's a bloomer-leg?" asked Russell.

"You get the ball, you put it down between your legs," I explained. "Just like Rick Barry shoots foul shots. Then you underhand that ball with all your might up towards the rim. So who wants to bloomer-leg one from half-court? Kevin Foster, what about you?"

Kevin was kind of a shy kid. "Welllll," he said tentatively, before his face broke out in a big smile. "Okay, I'll do it."

I knew Marietta was going to sit in that 2-3 zone and stay off our shooters, so I had Kevin dribble the ball up to half-court where it said "M.H.S." in big letters. He looked over at me, and I gave him a little wink.

"Let 'er fly, big man," I said.

And he took the ball and put it down between his knees, and Kevin Foster bloomer-legged it from half-court. When that ball hit the rim, my whole bench stood up. They thought it was going in. But it rattled off the iron and bounced out.

Robert Thomas grabbed the offensive rebound and dribbled out to the top of the circle, and then he bloomer-legged one too. That shot almost knocked a hole in the backboard.

The game was over, Marietta won by 25, but we made our statement. They might have won the game and embarrassed us, but we weren't going to let it ruin our lives. We weren't going to leave that gym feeling sorry for ourselves.