This story is part of Peak, The Athletic’s desk covering the mental side of sports. Sign up for Peak’s newsletter here.
Tyler Hastings is a senior guard at North Crowley High School in Fort Worth, Texas. He plans to study nursing at LSU.
I was shaking.
There were 17 seconds left in the semifinal game of the Texas state basketball tournament. My team, North Crowley, was down 49-47 to Duncanville, a powerhouse in the Dallas-Fort Worth area. They’ve won multiple state championships, and we knew whoever won was probably going to go on to win the state championship.
My point guard, Kameron Price, brought the ball up the court and was fouled with 17 seconds left, but unfortunately, he cramped up and couldn’t shoot the free throws.
Our coach, Tommy Brakel, couldn’t pick anyone on the court to shoot for Kameron. Our sixth man was already at the table waiting to check in, so Coach Brakel couldn’t pick him either. He had to use somebody on the bench. He looked down and picked me.
I had played just two minutes right before the end of halftime. Those were my only minutes in the game.
When I walked onto the court, I was still clueless. I thought I was checking in, and someone else was going to shoot the free throws. But then coach Brakel told me to go to the line, no pressure.
People say I’m low-key, but as much as that’s my demeanor, I was most definitely shaking. I was mostly concerned with my teammates, my starting five and my sixth man, who had done all this work to get us here. I didn’t want to let them down.
My first free throw hit the rim and missed. I dropped to my knees — it was just my instinct. I let the body language get the best of me, but I picked myself back up, like I had earlier that season.
I had thought about quitting once. It was at the end of December, after we went to South Carolina for a tournament. We played one of the top teams in the country, and we also played against NBA star Kon Knueppel’s brothers.
I was one of the only players on our team who didn’t play in any of those games. Back at the hotel, I told a few of my teammates that I might go. And I told my dad, too.
I just had a bunch of negative thoughts.
I knew I wasn’t going to play basketball in college; I had an academic scholarship to LSU. I’d even thought about graduating from high school early. If I weren’t going to play, I’d rather start working before I start college.
My dad is an assistant coach at North Crowley. He told me, “You’ve come so far. Don’t you want to end on a good note? A state championship is a state championship, and you’ll contribute to it whether you think you did or not.”
He convinced me to stick it out. I still didn’t play much near the end of the season, but I still pushed my teammates, cheered them on and played the best I could. In practice, I still went 100 percent and still tried to have fun.
Standing on the free-throw line with 17 seconds left after my first miss, I looked over at my dad on the sideline. Nothing changed in his face. I saw the trust he had in me. He just said, “Next shot.”
Then the other team called a timeout to ice me.
I was a little nervous, and I saw two or three of my teammates crying because they thought our season was over. As soon as I glanced at them, my dad pulled my head back and said, “You’ve got this. It’s one shot.”
I shot my second free throw, and I immediately saw it was off.
Some people say they can see where a rebound is going, but I’m just going to call it a miracle that it somehow tipped out right into my teammate Alex Barther’s hands. I moved to the 3-point line and called his name. I was like, I’m getting this ball back, and if someone isn’t right up in my face, I’m going to shoot it.
I want to say that was my thought process, but honestly, I wasn’t thinking in the moment. I’ve just shot that 3-pointer so many times: after practice, before practice, with my dad.
I caught the ball, shot it and it was cash.
It was probably the best feeling I’ve had in my entire life. I celebrated a little bit — I think I flexed for a second — but being a coach’s kid, I locked back in on defense. Duncanville missed a shot on the other end, we got the rebound and that was the game.
The next game, we won the state title.
After the state championship game, people ran up to me, hugged me and told me, “I’m so glad you didn’t quit. Thank you.”
It felt good.
You have to stay ready for your time because it could always be you. You always have to stay positive, even in the worst moments, because you can always turn a situation around.
That is something I’ll take with me for the rest of my life.
— As told to Jayson Jenks.
