Free You Let Some Girl Beat You? by Ann Meyers Drysdale Page B

perfect counterbalance to my introversion and loved nothing more than letting off a little steam to get us relaxed. So in typical Jules fashion, she continued making outrageous comments, forcing giggles between us two, until it was time to leave.
    â€œWell adios, ladies,” Jules finally said in her unmistakable Jersey accent. “See you tomorrow.”
    â€œSee you tomorrow,” Semjonova replied quite clearly.
    Juliene’s face blanched as she spoke to the interpreter while shuffling out of the restaurant. “I thought they didn’t speak any English.”
    â€œNot much. But they understand everything.”
    That evening the Soviets defeated us in a crushing 30+ point loss. With such a tight finish in the first game, we’d shamed them. Then Jules and I added fuel to the fire by insulting their team’s best players, thus igniting their desire to pulverize us.
    For me it was another life lesson, courtesy of basketball. Though we’d nearly tied them in the first game, it was no indication of what might follow. And so it always was: You could win a game, but you still had to start all over with the next one. Every day you had to get up and try your best. When you failed, it didn’t kill you. It hurt, and you hated it, but it also drove you to be better next time. That first game had motivated the Soviet players to bury us, and Jules and my behavior during the pre-game meal put the nail in the coffin.
    When the games against the Soviets were finished, I returned to high school and continued to play AAU basketball with my sister Patty.
    Today when you think of AAU, you think of kids trying to earn college scholarships. Back then it was another outlet for women who played in and out of college to compete long before there was a woman’s league. The team was called Anamill after the sponsoring company. We’d travel to Gallup, New Mexico for tournaments, but the team ended up disbanding when the sponsor went belly up. Rather than throw in the towel, Patty found a new sponsor in National General West, who paid for the girls to travel and compete. So I was back to high school and back to playing on the National General West team with the sister I looked up to.
    Patty had played as starting center, captain, and leading scorer and rebounder on Billie Moore’s 1970 AIAW championship women’s basketball team at Cal State Fullerton. Together, they put the Titans on the map before Immaculata and Delta State became known for their women’s basketball programs. Wayland Baptist was another college that won a lot of AAU Championships. They had invited me to play for them, but I hadn’t given much thought to college yet. Heck, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to continue playing basketball in college, since I still dreamed of making the Olympics as a high jumper. I figured when the time came, I’d probably attend the same college Patty had. But fate stepped in when I was offered a full athletic scholarship to play basketball at UCLA.
    No woman had ever been offered a full ride to a Division One school before, so this was huge. UCLA was also close to home, which meant I would have David and my sister, Cathy, who’d just graduated from UCLA, in Westwood with me. I would also be in the presence of the greatest mentor that basketball has ever known.
    John Wooden had already won nine national titles and been named college basketball’s Coach of the Year seven times when I started UCLA. My freshman year, David was a senior, so I arranged to be out of class every day early enough to watch him during his practices with Coach Wooden. I loved sitting in Pauley Pavilion watching David, listening to Coach Wooden, absorbing the smells and sounds of Men’s Division I basketball. Coach kept practice closed, but since he knew the Meyers, he’d let me hang out in the rafters.
    It may as well have been Heaven.
    In the late 60s and early 70s, UCLA owned men’s basketball and