The Lives We Touch In Youth Sports

The gym was deserted, and the lights were off. Only narrow rays of sunlight through high windows relieved my eyes from a dusk-like dimness.

It had been nearly a decade since I had passed through the large double doors that once had greeted me openly. I sensed they no longer knew me, that perhaps I had passed from their memory long ago.

That was just days ago, and I still feel a sense of intruding despite that building having seemed like home in the summer past.

The floor was bare. There were no scorers’ tables and no chairs. No ball racks or wall banners. Bleachers were folded into the

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