Just a few of the basketball trophies from the St. Thomas the Apostle Grade School. (Karen Wils photo)

ESCANABA- “March madness” is an old saying first coined in 1939 to describe the excitement of a basketball tournament.

Through the years, many of us have spent countless hours in the month of March in a sweaty, stuffy loud gymnasium!

The chanting and cheering crowd, the squeak of snickers on a hardwood floor, the ref’s whistle and that annoyingly loud buzzer, are all a part of the magic of “March madness”.

Professional basketball has become too perfect. With the average NBA player standing 6 feet and 6.5 inches tall! The Milwaukee Bucks basketball team has the famous three Antetokounmpo brothers playing. These players and many other all-stars make it look so easy to get that ball into that basket!

But the best basketball games start small.

Shooting hoops, Yooper style is an age-old tradition. Many a barn, shed, or garage and driveway had a basketball hoop dangling above it. Rural schools no matter how small could almost always come up with a five-man basketball team.

Rivalries were intense like when Escanaba played Gladstone or Perkins played Rock. Whole families flocked to the gyms to yell, clap, eat popcorn and cheer their home team on to victory.

My basketball memories date way back to the late 1960’s and early 1970’s. Back then, Escanaba had four Catholic grade schools in town with lots of kids. There were St. Joseph’s, St. Anne’s, St. Patrick’s and in north Escanaba St. Thomas Vikings.

We were Vikings, the best team!

Our school was known for no nonsense nuns, blue uniforms, classes of about 40 students, fountain pens, no gym, morning Mass for everyone and tough athletes.

Basketball was like a second religion. We played All Saints School in Gladstone, the Flat Rock School and the three other Escanaba parochial schools. The competition was fierce.

At St. Thomas we held pep assemblies in the hallway with the entire student body, teachers, nuns, priests and coaches crammed in elbow to elbow. The cheerleaders cheered, cow bells rang and the rally ended with the singing of the school song.

My two older brothers played ball for St. Thomas so that meant that we went to every game. In mid-season there was a special father-son game. My Dad shied away saying he didn’t look good in shorts. So, my taller athletic uncle Bob got to play in his place. It was a great time.

On a shelf in what is now St. Thomas’s parish hall that used to be eight classrooms, sits many antique basketball trophies from those good old days.

Decades later the Catholic grade schools were all combined at the Holy Name School building. Not too many years ago, my son and daughter played grade school basketball there. The smaller the kid, the baggier the basketball uniform, and the more fun the game is.

I recall a tournament game at Holy Name early on Saturday morning when my son was playing. Bob was on the bench, so I made my way down the bleachers to get a cup of coffee at the concession stand for my husband and me. The wait was long because the coffee had just finished brewing.

I was finally making my way back to our seats when Bob was in the game and dribbling down court and… scoring!

Yippy! My hands went up. Oh no, hot coffee was everywhere, good thing I didn’t hit anybody.

March madness can be a crazy thing, but what a wonderful way to spend it together in a gym.