Whitman’s famous D3 Men’s Basketball team has achieved a remarkable increase in viewership, especially considering I now attend the games. There has also been a surge of college applications to Whitman, a clear correlation between the basketball team’s success and the school’s prestige.

While many may attribute the school’s success to the basketball players or the coach, the real credit goes to the hero lurking just to the right of the bench – the Basketball Team Manager. Poised, professional and legendary, with his stylish collared shirts in a sea of baggy and sweat-stained basketball shorts, this sophomore has altered the destiny of Whitman Basketball, and by association, the broader D3 sports scene along with the entirety of liberal arts education.

The halftime buzzer sounds and there he is, up and running to the water cooler, single-handedly preventing the players from life-threatening dehydration. The players don’t have room in their minds to think of anything other than the game, and they don’t need to, not when they have their Team Manager keeping an eye out for their survival.

But he’s not just a waterboy. Without him, the team would be left ball-less. He’s the one rolling out the ball cart at practice and before the games. 

Then, just when you think his job is done, there he is with his rebounding skills, not missing a beat as he courageously stands beneath the net and passes back the balls. I will never forget sitting in the stands before the game, mesmerized by his dedicated performance, with no one besides him rushing to rebound those practice shots. If he wasn’t there, the balls would just roll on the ground, and the team would miss out on warming up before the game, resulting in heart-wrenching losses. 

However, his impact extends beyond the physical realm. The Team Manager is the lifeline of morale, donning a giant smile that radiates team spirit. If he wasn’t there with his effortlessly positive energy, the team would succumb to a ball of depression and never get up to play. 

He is not just a piece of the team; he is an integral part of the school, to the town of Walla Walla, to the entire state of Washington and to the whole of the United States of America. More than a ball rests in his hands, so does the reputation of Whitman, and he holds it effortlessly. There is nothing he can’t do, except play basketball.