Alaskan Basketball – A Way of Life
On the surface, Eagle Blue tracks the struggle of a boys’ basketball team from Ft. Yukon, Alaska, on their way to compete in the Alaska State Championship. But, it’s about much more. Michael D’orso burrows deep into the village of Ft. Yukon, where we learn how important basketball is, not only to the kids playing it, but to the entire community. He personalizes this Athabascan Gwich’in population. We get close up and personal with these folks, beyond the everyday facades. Dave Bridges, their coach of the last six seasons is a fully rounded, complete person. He’s not your stereotypical sports coach, mouthing inane clichés, but a thoughtful, compassionate man, who more than anything, wants to help his players grow into responsible, young adults, who feel pride in their accomplishments. The high school ball players come to life, too. Matt Shewfelt is the star of the team. We watch him rise above his broken home, beset by dysfunction and poverty. Cocky and talented, he knows the road to a State Championship is filled with rutted potholes, but he’s not about to let that get in his way.
Ft. Yukon suffers from the same ailments that plague so many of the Arctic’s bush communities: poverty, rampant alcoholism, domestic violence, rape and suicide. But basketball is the congealing healer. It is a source of pride. It’s an activity that almost everyone in the village agrees is a great thing. Paradoxically enough, it’s also a source of sorrow. Time is the bastard. Just like the game is governed by the clock, so is everything else. When the game ends time becomes the enemy. Especially for those who once roamed the courts. They look back. Life between the hoops from the rear view mirror shines more brightly. In Ft, Yukon, the fathers hold onto those victorious memories and how they alone, uplifted the spirit of their village. Now, for most of these men, the victories are only shimmering remembrances – life in the village as full grown adults is far more perplexing – the wins – far and few between.
On an altogether different vein, D’orso mixes in exquisite play-by-play. Whether you’re an aficionado or not, you can readily appreciate the punchy action driving up and down the boards. In an important NIT tournament, the yet untested Ft. Yukon Eagles are playing Su-Valley, a more highly rated, respected team. “Matt takes the inbound pass, comes up the floor as if he’s got all the time in the world. Four seconds. He pushes the ball toward the right side, to half-court. Three. He crosses to the middle, splitting two Su-Valley guards. Two. He pulls up at the top of the key, flanked by two more defenders. One. He pump-fakes one player into the air, leans past the other and shoots. The ball arches high toward the ceiling, nearly grazing the rafters. The gym falls silent, every eye on the shot. Zero. The halftime horn sounds. Swish. The ball splits the net, and the place goes berserk.”
D’orso complements the floor action by adding ample background to the schools and players Ft. Yukon squares off against. One of the schools they compete against is located in reclusive Ninilchik, populated by a Russian sect who broke off from the “Russian Orthodox Church in the mid-seventeenth century…” This miniscule community is known for its distinctive dress - females “wear talichkas (long, floor length dresses)” while the males “dress in rubakhas (long-sleeved, ornately embroidered, loose fitting collarless shirts).” Aside from their religious beliefs and unique garb, they share a common bond with our Ft. Yukon players – they love basketball.
Rippling throughout is the drama, which wraps and weaves around the team. Everyone’s a coach. All the men – former players or not – know they could do a better job than Dave. Not that any of them are willing to accept that responsibility. When Dave quits after a traumatic courtside incident, where he publicly berates one of his players – humiliating himself in front of the entire community, not a single resident steps up to the plate to fill his shoes. Any of them could have used that opportunity to fill the void, show their coaching bona fides and wear the coaching mantle. Not a single person made that move. Much easier to bitch and groan.
At the end, it doesn’t really matter if the young, Eagle Blue warriors win the State Championship or not (no spoilers, here) – for they’ve already captured our hearts and minds with their steadfast determination and commitment to never saying quit.
Original review published in Anchorage Press on March 8, 2017.