Senior Series - Harsha Sanaka

I've been a part of the Hawken Basketball Program for all four years of high school. One year of freshman, one year of JV - and even though I've spent two years on varsity, I don't think I've touched the court for more than 30 minutes total. It's OK -- you can laugh.

I was talking with Coach Nugent last week as we reflected on the past year. We played 24 games this season and had 65 practices, all over the course of four months. That adds up to hundreds of hours, and if we multiply that by four seasons, I'm sure you'll be able to conclude that I, and any other student who ends up playing Hawken sports for four years, will have given their respective programs a couple thousand hours of their life. However, caught in those thousands of hours are certain moments, events, and pieces whose value can never truly be captured on a piece of paper or by a win/loss record. These are the little things.

Before we played Richmond Heights for the first time this year -- for those of you who don't know, Richmond is ranked 31st in the nation and has won 27 straight games this season -- the whole team went to the corner room of the White House and went through an exercise where each member of the team was tasked with telling another member of the team one positive thing they had noticed about them during the season thus far, whether that was the energy that teammate brought to practice every day or just how good of a friend they were. We were run off the court that day, embarrassed even, and it was easy to tell that frustration was brewing in the locker room during halftime and after the game. We had shouted at each other, identified our flaws as a team, and at times, may have even called each other out. But that was OK because before the game, through our exercise of appreciation, we had proven to each other that we were brothers… a family. And families have arguments.

It was my freshman year that Coach Nugent and Coach Bratten had come from St. Eds to Hawken, bringing with them years of experience. I'm sure that fans and parents alike will be able to see glimpses of their passion for the sport as they yell at us during games, but what they don't get to see is the fiery speeches they give after tough losses and the happiness beaming across their faces after our biggest wins of the season. It's clear that these men love basketball, but for all the love they have for the game, they have emphasized that the most important part of being a part of this program is not what we do on the court, but how we stay connected off the court. They have gone out of their way to organize team bonding activities, whether that was bowling or volunteering at the food bank, and always arranged exercises of gratitude. Sometimes, these exercises may feel frivolous… I mean let's be honest: The last thing you want to do when you have a plate of breaded chicken and pasta in front of you is talk about what you're grateful for. But they have helped us realize we are not so much connected as a team by an orange basketball, but rather by our shared experiences -- our struggles and victories.

I'll end with one final story. Near the end of my freshman year, the pandemic struck. I had just left Orange to come to Hawken, and as a rather shy and timid kid at the time, I had failed to form any friendships that I could fall back on during these difficult times. In order to deal with our inability of being in each other's presence, Coach Nugent had introduced the program to an app called HomeCourt, which allowed us to record our workouts and share them with teammates as they completed theirs. I'm sure that anybody who was a part of the program at this time remembers the countless hours I invested into the app, recording myself dribbling and shooting the ball. In a period where I felt like I had nobody, I could rely on the brotherhood of our team, and that is something that I am invaluably thankful for.

As we all wrap up this year and head into another chapter of our lives, I'm sure we'll all end up taking different paths. However, our humanity is defined by the collective struggles we will face in our lives no matter how unique we are. We'll all come across times in life where we deal with problems with family and friends that seem insurmountable, but these are the moments in which I will fall back on the lessons that being a Hawken athlete taught me. I will recall how my teammates picked me up when I was down, how we'd be hunched over in laughter on the stands after practice, and how we made it through late, grueling nights with smiles on our faces. Though each sport is different in its own unique way, I'm sure that all Hawken athletes will have experienced similar memories as they brace their playing fields for the final time. Most importantly, I will remember all of the tiny lessons that each of these special, unforgettable moments taught me, as these are the little things that distinguish success from failure. If you were a Hawken athlete for four years, you would know this to be true. Thank you.