Peggy Dover

It felt a strange sitting in the Cascade Christian High School gym again, like a vague rendition of former times there.

It began with our daughter, Emily’s, volleyball romp — four years of games, out-of-town tournaments and trips to state. Afterward, for a brief season, I served as the school secretary, then the athletic director’s assistant. This job suited me when I could leave my upper level hideaway and be in the gym watching games, or out munching a mustard-rich hot dog at a lit football stadium. Sitting behind the desk was not as thrilling, but someone had to keep the paperwork flowing.

I quit to become a “full-time” writer in the summer of 2008, still indulging in the fun part — attending games. I knew many of the kids and families there, for a while. I showed a free lifetime pass at the ticket desk bestowed by my then-boss, Dave Fennell. He said that anyone who survives the job of AD assistant has earned it. Dave was a wonderful supervisor who trusted me to do my job while he schmoozed candidates for coaching positions.

So, tonight I made the pilgrimage back to the Cascade gym. Since Kris Smith was working the entry, I didn’t have to fish for my pass as she waved me in. Though the characters seemed familiar, the names were not the same. I was there to witness a school basketball point record being broken, and all bets were on Austin Maurer to make that happen.

Before the game, I had the pleasure of meeting Austin. He was easy to pick out. We visited briefly until I got a crick in my neck. At 7 feet tall and likely still growing, he’s pretty impressive close up — like a redwood. I told him I knew his grandfather, Andy Maurer, who was Cascade’s football coach when I worked there. I knew Andy would have been proud of his grandson. Oh, he would have given him a hard time, of course, but he would secretly be busting out all over inside for him and Peyton, his twin brother and fellow teammate.

I meandered down the showcase of awards, reading over trophies that individuals coming together had worked hard to earn — gratified to realize that though Emily’s volleyball team came close at state, they earned the OSAA Good Sportsmanship award more than once. I was privileged to witness firsthand a few of the seasons represented. Each familiar year rolled a mental video of how it was with images of the players and coaches. I could hardly believe so many years had passed — that former student-athletes now had children of their own.

Lane had agreed to meet me there to watch the game against Rogue River. It was fun, and I had forgotten how loud the buzzer was. We ate popcorn and marveled at the collective energy on the court — the moves, the deft passes, the slam-dunks. During the second quarter, Austin powered (see that?) through to earn the few points he needed to accomplish the night’s landmark thrill. He’s not a ball hog and passed more than he shot when the setup called for it. Now, he was free to concentrate on the remainder of the season and, hopefully, a third state trophy.

Cascade has been winning all its league games handily, and tonight was no exception, but Rogue River played well and scrappy. They never let up, realizing the opportunity to stretch their skills, for which they should be proud.

When Austin surpassed the school point record (and the season isn’t over), the team took a brief celebratory timeout before getting back to business. The final score doesn’t matter. These are the memories that Austin and his family will share for years — swiftly passing years. May they savor each one. Austin is moving on to Grand Canyon University in Phoenix, and they’re blessed to have him. Someday, if he should decide to go pro, I can say I saw him play in the same gym where we watched and cheered our daughter’s team not so long ago — only 18 years or so. That’s nothing in the grand scheme.