Coach Pat Summitt -- my tribute

Coach Pat Summitt is gone. The iconic Tennessee Lady Volunteers basketball coach passed away June 28 after a battle with early-onset dementia, Alzheimer's type. I could hardly believe when the news came in 2011 that she had the condition, could hardly believe when she stepped down from coaching, and certainly could hardly believe when I awoke to the news a week ago that Coach Summitt would now be referred to in the past tense. See, for me, Coach Summitt epitomized basketball. She was the larger-than-life figure I wanted to emulate in my own coaching. She was the standard that was beyond my reach, but one I took pleasure in attempting. She won eight national titles. My Hudson Lady Bluehawks, the basketball team I coached for six years, won back-to-back conference titles, a far cry from the Lady Vols, but I still felt a little Summitt-like on the journey.

I won't use this space to tell her life story. That story is available for all to see with a simple Internet search. I'll just say this: Her work ethic was a seed planted growing up on a Tennessee farm. Her love for the game came from playing the sport with her brothers. Her legacy began when she became a head coach at the University of Tennessee at the age of 22. Her greatness was destined, and she did not disappoint.

A couple days before her death, I heard that she was nearing the end. I didn't quite know what to do with that news and prayed for a miracle, as I had prayed for her through the years since her diagnosis. On Tuesday, I awoke to the news: She was gone. I posted on social media: "My heart aches. I awoke this morning to the news that Tennessee Lady Vols basketball Coach Pat Summitt has passed away. Those who know me know how much I love Coach Summitt. I modeled my coaching career after her. I wanted to be just like her on the sideline. I learned from her. Although I prayed for a miracle, early-onset dementia took her from us much too soon, but her legacy lives on. She remains the winningest coach -- male or female -- in the history of college basketball. We will never forget her -- the 38 years of coaching, the fierce competitiveness, the knowledge of the game, the stare-downs, the epic battles against Coach Geno Auriemma and his UCONN Huskies, the 1,098 career wins, the 8 national championships, the Olympic medals as a player and a coach, the 8 overall coach of the year awards, the Basketball Hall of Fame induction, the 16 SEC championships, the 16 SEC Tournament championships, the Presidential Medal of Freedom, and the list goes on. I can hardly believe she's gone. The sport will never be the same."

What I did not mention in that post is something I did not know myself until later that day: Every one of her players graduated from college. Every. Single. One. No doubt, that's because Coach Summitt coached more than a sport. She coached life. Everyone who was even slightly aware of her coaching style was familiar with the icy stare that no one wanted to be on the other end of. They knew of her commitment to proper execution of the game. They knew of her determination to win. They knew of her practices, which were hell on earth so her players could taste heaven at the conclusion of March Madness.

But what those who observed her only from a distance may have missed were the mothering she did of her players, the dinners she cooked for them at her own house, the support she gave. She loved her players--and they loved her, even if in the heat of the battle they "hated" her. She was committed to their full success -- basketball and academics and the many things in between.

I, too, loved Coach Summitt. I loved her intensity. I modeled my own coaching after her -- even down to the suits I sometimes wore on the sideline. I dreamt -- literally -- of sitting and talking to her about basketball, being on the sideline with her, learning from her. And how I longed to win like her.

I'll get to Knoxville, Tennessee, to see Coach Summitt's statue at the University of Tennessee, which I have yet to see in person, and I'll visit the Women's Basketball Hall of Fame, a place that likely would not exist without her -- a place I've always wanted to go. I'll stand on the ground that she helped make sacred, and I'll mourn Coach Summitt's loss. But I'll rejoice in what she still means to the sport, to the lives she touched personally, and to those, like me, whom she inspired from a distance and who are the better for it.

Final note: I learned she and her son Tyler were baptized in 2012 as an outward expression of their commitment to Christ, so I rejoice most of all that now, upon her passing, Coach Summitt has truly surpassed us all -- reaching the summit to which we all aspire.

Adrienne Ross is an editor, writer, public speaker, online radio show host, former teacher and coach, Southeast Missourian editorial board member, and owner of Adrienne Ross Communications. Reach her at aross@semissourian.com.