Where did the time go?

On March 3, 1973, the Waurika Eagles wrapped up an undefeated basketball season and the Class A state championship while playing at the Oklahoma State Fairgrounds Arena in Oklahoma City.

I was a senior on that team from southern Oklahoma that won all 28 of its games. As the wins kept adding up — usually by a 20-point victory margin — we players didn’t think about what was happening or consider the prospect of the perfect season coming to an end, as it had the previous two seasons, both of which finished with a 23-5 record.

We just enjoyed the ride.

1973 Waurika Eagles

And we celebrated that accomplishment again Tuesday night at Waurika’s final home game before the current Eagles started post-season play. (As it turns out, this week’s accolades are the first of a two-part commemoration. The OSSAA, the governing body for high school sports in the state, will also honor the team during the Class A state finals on March 4 in Oklahoma City.)

But during Tuesday’s 50-year reunion of players from that 1973 team, I couldn’t help but notice that instead of the tireless players who deftly executed a full-court press defense and a fast break offense each game, a bunch of slow-moving old guys with expanding waistlines showed up to be honored.

How did I end up in this elderly group? I’m surely not that old. After all, I see myself in the mirror every morning, and I know I’ve aged pretty well, even if others haven’t. So who were those old guys who joined me at centercourt Tuesday evening?

For some, it had been almost 50 years since I’d last seen them. I’d seen six of my teammates in September 2021 when the team was invited to be in the homecoming parade, and I thought then that they looked a lot older than my classmates should.

50 years later

Time, it seems, has a way of getting away from us. I’m sure no one from that state championship team looked ahead 50 years and thought we’d be the guests of honor as the community looked back to its only basketball state title. For the most part after graduation, we went our separate ways. A few from the team had short-lived basketball careers at small Oklahoma universities, and there were those of us who played church-league ball and pick-up games on community courts, some of us until our age matched our uniform number. I wore number 44.

But it’s hard to believe it’s been so many years. If not for the calendar — and the indelible impression March 3, 1973, had on my high school experience — I’d have been sure that hoisting our championship trophy happened only 20 years or so ago.

And none of us (I mean, them) should look as old as we (they) apparently are.