On the eve of tip-off 2026, STMC girls coach Cassie Lauang on appreciating both the teaching and learning moments in a most magical time!

(Editor’s preface — There is a no mistaking the special feeling that is in the air on the eve of the B.C. senior girls high school basketball championships.

St. Thomas More Knights senior girls basketball head coach Cassie Lauang reflected on some of those, and they are the kinds of moments that every coach leading a team to provincial tournaments over these next few special weeks is sure to find relatable.

As we’re all down to one final sleep before the magic begins, we hope this read resonates with coaches in every part of our great province. — Howard Tsumura)

By Cassie Lauang

Educator, Coach

(Special for Varsity Letters)

BURNABY — The gym always feels quieter the week before Provincials.

It sounds the same though.

The bounce of the basketballs echo. The shoes still squeak. The bounces off the rim and the clean swishes through the nylon are still there… but there’s something buzzing in the air that signals something has shifted.

By this point, most of the preparation is already done. Systems are installed. Roles are understood and there aren’t really many more speeches that can suddenly change who a team is.

And yet, this week does feel a bit heavier, not because of what still needs to be done or taught but because everyone can sense that there is something meaningful approaching and it’s really not just about basketball. It’s about young people standing close to a moment that feels bigger than they’re used to carrying and the quiet work of helping them believe that they can step into it without losing themselves if things don’t go the way they hope.

And while the technical preparation matters, sometimes it’s just as important that we take a step back and reflect on the bravery and courage it must take these young people to navigate their roads with all the rest they are carrying. After all, at its core, regardless of the sport, competition asks young athletes to risk visible embarrassment, heartbreak, and the fear of letting others down in return for stacking tiny moments of joy, growth, and meaningful connections.

The least we can do is ensure they know belonging here was never conditional on the numbers read on a scoreboard or a stats sheet.

The least we can say is that it’s okay to feel pressure and that it isn’t a burden to erase.

Instead, it’s evidence that something matters deeply. It does mean risking failure, but what is failure but data and lessons gathered in real time?

On the other side of it is the chance to feel incredibly alive and to put your gifts and character to use. 

Removing the pressure, the tension and the unease, then, isn’t the goal. They are most definitely strong enough to carry it. But sometimes we need to be more intentional about leaving the porch light on so they know where they can turn when they need guidance, reassurance and help to lighten the load.

Every year, it’s fun to see who shows up at Provincials. Teachers who rarely attend regular games get their classes watching and find their way into the bleachers. Younger students watch with an intensity that suggests they’re studying the moment and imagining themselves. Alumni send messages from universities and workplaces from their big boy and big girl lives. For a few hours, school stops feeling like a crockpot of schedules, responsibilities, and due dates and becomes something simpler: a community gathered to witness its young people pursue excellence together.

After all, the high school gym remains one of the few places where generations share the collective hope, joy and agony of messy, unscripted moments. In the gym, failure is visible, immediate, and shared. But there is also bravery, support, and trust. Classrooms have their place in the lessons of life, but the lived experience of consequence and cooperation is something sports delivers in a wonderfully visceral way.

Communities gather to bear witness to it because they care deeply about the young people in front of them or the school they represent and the game becomes the vehicle for being able to express it. It’s visible in the cheers, the attention, and the rituals that surround the court. The gym reminds everyone that effort, connection and belonging matter and that we can be present for one another in trial and triumph. While players rarely notice while they’re locked in on the court and their team, what I hope surrounds them this week is a quiet, focused message from their communities that they matter beyond the outcome.

Tonight, we’ll practice again. We’ll run through our schemes. We’ll discuss the details that feel urgent. And soon, there will be the whistles, and the crowds, and the spectacle of the competition.

But before any of that arrives, I feel immeasurable gratitude for the chance to stand in a gym and witness young people learning courage in real time and for a community willing to gather around them while they do.

Whatever happens, the light stays on.

If you’re reading this story or viewing these photos on any website other than one belonging to a university athletic department, it has been taken without appropriate permission. In these challenging times, true journalism will survive only through your dedicated support and loyalty. VarsityLetters.ca and all of its exclusive content has been created to serve B.C.’s high school and university sports community with hard work, integrity and respect. Feel free to drop us a line any time at howardtsumura@gmail.com.