Fourth quarter. I’m feeling good-we’re up by almost 10 points, and each of the teachers looks on the brink of collapse. The teachers then must have had some kind of divine revelation, as three unanswered three-pointers put them ahead. With only three seconds left, we need a three to send the game into overtime. We missed it.

Now I could sit here and tell you what you want to hear. I could tell you the refs were biased, the teachers cheated, and the so-called “janitor,” was an ex-pro they found on the street. But I’m going to tell you what you don’t want to hear. With three seconds left, Mr. Brown let us shoot the three that would’ve tied the game. With three seconds left, Mr. Bibaud said to the seniors, “you’ve got time to take a good shot. Three dribbles-don’t just lob it.” With three seconds left-the teachers wanted us to win.

With only a few months until graduation, I’m ready to graduate. I’ve had my fun, made friends, learned a lot, and become a motivated young man. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t going to be nostalgic. I’m ready for the next chapter in my life, but I will look back on my time at Hereford with great fondness. Students never tire of saying how their teachers “have it out for them,” but the last three seconds of the Rematch say otherwise. The teachers want us to be successful. They want us to have a positive outlook towards the future, and they have nothing but our best interests at heart (most of them anyway). We didn’t beat the teachers, but they’ve done for us a service we can never repay-they’ve ensured we will succeed in life.