In the fall of 2007, 22-year-old Max Chartrand became coach of the 5th grade “Bruins”  of Lawrence, Kansas. 

    Many of the players knew little about passing, shooting, playing man-to-man defense, or breaking a zone press. Most had never been taught the fundamentals of the game.

   The Bruins were beaten so badly in their first game that Coach Max stopped watching the clock. He heard reports that the final score was 65-8 but doubts the game was ever that close.

    Max was a School of Education senior at University of Kansas at the time.  Like the 5th grade Bruins, Max had big dreams.  His life’s ambition was to teach high school and coach basketball.

     One day, Max thought, he would lead a team to a state championship. His own Dream Team.

    The Bruins of Lawrence, however, were not a Dream Team. They were more like the Bad News Bears, long on spirit and short on talent.  So Max began to teach.

     He taught the boys how to pass, shoot, play defense, and break a zone press. He taught them teamwork. He told them to keep their chins up. If your head is down, you can’t see the coach or the basket; you can’t see your dreams.

     During the autumn of 2007, the Bruins kept chins up. They learned teamwork. They also learned how to prevent the opponent from scoring so many points.  The team’s first and only win came in the final game of the season, beating a team that had once beaten them so badly that no one, not even Coach Max, remembered the score.

    January 2008 brought Max and the Bruins reunited Max and the Bruins for the city’s winter hoops season.  Same dream, same team.  A team that would never be the same.

    The Bruins opened the season with a decisive win. Then another win — and another, and another.

    After one lopsided victory, the losing coach complained that the Bruins had used “zone defense” to hold his team scoreless for an entire quarter. The losing coach didn’t know zone defense was permitted in little-league hoops. Max shrugged. Two months earlier his players didn’t know zone defense existed.

    Max and the Miracle Bruins finished the 2008 winter season 5-1. They entered the post-season tournament as a top seed.  Most of boys had never been a “top seed” but assumed it was something good.

    The 5th grade Bruins lost two of its three post-season tournament games. Both were decided by five points or less in the final 60 seconds.  Like the Bruins, the other teams had improved. Some had learned to play zone defense ... learned it from the Bruins.

     After the final buzzer of the final game, the boys thanked Coach Max for a great season. They handed him cards and small gifts, then ran wildly across the gymnasium floor. Fifth grade boys never walk. They ran toward the parking lot and the minivans of waiting moms and dads.

    But the parents weren’t waiting in the parking lot. They were still in the gym, with Coach Max.

     One father — who might  have been a grandfather — shook the young coach’s hand. Without loosening his grip, the older man spoke in a wobbly voice.

     “Thank you, Coach,” he said. He brought a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat.  “My son . . . he’s never played on a winning team. Ever.”

     Max smiled. Now there was something wet in his eyes, too.  “I know the feeling.  I’ll call the boys after spring break. We’ll have a pizza party or something.”

     The older man said his son would enjoy that.  The other parents agreed.

      There were more handshakes, and a few hugs. Then Max and the Bruin parents walked slowly across the gym floor as a shrill buzzer signaled the start of another game.

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