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player ready...Lance Randall had made what was probably the biggest decision of his life at his father’s funeral, which might suggest his heart played a bigger role than his head.
That’s what his mother Cindy feared, anyway, and what others assumed.
Floored by the unexpected death of Steve Randall, the beloved basketball coach of Oshkosh (Wis.) West High School, the Randall family did what loving families do: They grieved deeply. And they tried to honor a father, husband and teacher who had such a profound impact on those he left behind that they are still trying to grasp his immense influence some 2 1/2 years after he died.
For Lance and his wife, Pam, the next move that dark October day in 2004 was obvious. Lance would leave his Division I assistant post at St. Louis University, where, at 33, he seemed set for the coaching fast track. He would take a $50,000 pay cut to assume his father’s position at Oshkosh West, where he would have to find part-time work as a fundraiser to supplement his $4,000 coaching stipend. He would help his father’s players through their grief. And they would help him.
Keeping it together
Lance’s sisters Erin, Chelssee and Maggie say Lance was the lucky one–he could be that much closer to their dad by assuming his job. But Cindy had to make sure. “I had to sit down with him and say, `Dad would not want you to risk your own career,'” she says. “I was concerned about it.”
But Lance did not hesitate, and Cindy welcomed it when Lance, Pam and their daughter, Evelyn, then 22 months, moved into her home. An inspired Oshkosh West team–still Steve’s team, Lance always emphasized–glided through the regular season undefeated and entered the ’05 playoffs ranked No. 1 in the state.
If it seemed too much the fairy tale to be true, it was–the Wildcats lost in the sectional semifinals. They graduated two of their best players, and people wondered if Lance would leave. But he stayed and the emotional ride resumed that fall as Oshkosh went unbeaten through the regular season, winning in improbable, sometimes miraculous ways, once on a 75-foot prayer that made ESPN’s “SportsCenter.”
Oshkosh fans converged on Madison for the ’06 state tournament, wearing Steve’s initials over their hearts and on their backs. They chanted “STE-ven RAN-dall” in a mixture of cheers and tears as the Wildcats whipped powerhouse Madison Memorial for the state championship.
The mythic ending in place, now everyone expected Lance to depart Oshkosh for a college job. But he didn’t. His assistant is his brother-in-law, Brad Clark, who was originally set to be Randall’s heir apparent, and the two forged a bond worthy of best friends. They made plans for this season. The family grew that much closer.
“Basketball kept us together in our grief,” Cindy says. “I look back at how shattered we were, and what was one thing we all knew we would do? We knew we would be there to support Lance.”
Life goes on
Steve Randall died following what was supposed to be a routine angioplasty. This vibrant spirit and kind soul who touched so many and drew them together was gone at 53. And as they grappled for answers, there was his team, their team, to hold them up.
“Not that we would have fallen totally apart,” Cindy says, “but basketball did keep us together, kept us in touch with each other, kept us fighting for Steve, that was for sure. In the end, basketball has been a savior.”
Three grandchildren have arrived in the last 2 1/2 years, joining Evelyn and Erin and Brad’s daughter Jada. Erin had learned she was pregnant again the day before Steve died and had excitedly planned cute ways to break the news to her parents that weekend. But she never got to tell her father.
Steven Randall Clark arrived last June, just before Father’s Day. Chelssee and her husband had a baby girl not long after. And Lance and Pam added a son to their family a couple of months later. Now Erin is pregnant again.
Lance got a teaching certificate and now teaches emotionally disabled kids at Oshkosh West. He will complete his masters in education this spring.
Steve’s influence continues to be felt in other ways. Last year, Cindy got a call from a man in California who had read about Steve and wanted to meet her and her family. He flew in with two goddaughters, their mother and his mother, and they all ate dinner at Cindy’s house.
Before he left town, he handed her a $5,000 check for the foundation she started in Steve’s name. Later, she found out, he literally saved the freshman boys basketball and girls volleyball teams at the school with similar donations.
Lance was flooded with offers from studios that wanted to make a film about the family. In the end they chose an independent filmmaker, Tim Breitbach, who met Lance through his brother Tony, the head trainer at St. Louis. Breitbach, who is reduced to tears when he talks about Steve and Lance, is making a documentary he hopes to have completed by next year’s March Madness.
Another trophy
Steve was a basketball junkie, so this time of year was nirvana for him. Going to the state high school tournament, whether his team was in it or not. Attending the Final Four, often with Lance. The family feels his presence most at this time, so as they walked into the state tournament with the defending champion Oshkosh West team last weekend, there was the usual sadness too. “I still wish it was his team, I still wish he was on the bench,” Lance says.
He still talks to his father “all the time, I mean all the time,” he says. He laughs that it’s a one-sided conversation, but then the two are so close philosophically Lance knows what he’d say.
“As much as anything,” Lance says, “it’s therapy for me and a way to talk out the situation, get my head around it. He’s a sounding board for how we should do things.”
But Cindy sees a deep sadness in Lance. “He carries something around,” she says. “There’s still something missing.”
Back to teaching 3rd grade, Cindy misses Steve in every way there is to miss him, including the simple pleasure of turning to him when one of the grandchildren does something cute and remembering “when Lance or Erin or whoever did that.”
Gradually, she says, she has become “the coach’s mom rather than the coach’s wife. I still felt like the coach’s wife last year.”
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Oshkosh West sold out every game this season, reducing a city of about 65,000 people with two large public high schools into one that Lance says felt like “a town of 500.” If last season was charmed–some observers insist Steve had a hand in it–this one was a fight, each win hard-earned. No one expected the Wildcats to approach the level of last season.
Still, they made it to the Division 1 state tournament, and when Milwaukee King took the air out of the ball in the quarterfinals, they simply dug in and did what they had to do to win 34-32. Then they beat Wassau East in the semifinals 50-41 to set up a showdown with Tom Diener’s top-ranked Milwaukee Vincent.
Trying the same tactic against a taller Oshkosh West team led by Wisconsin recruit Tim Jarmusz, Diener’s team ground the game to a halt March 17. The halftime score was 12-12, and Jarmusz had all 12 of West’s points.
By the second half, the Kohl Center crowd was firmly behind Oshkosh West, which ran off the first 10 points of the third quarter. And when the quarter ended and Wildcats fans pointed to heaven and chanted “STE-ven RAN-dall,” nearly everyone in the place joined in.
With 2 minutes 24 seconds left, it was a four-point game. But West pulled away to win 50-43, claiming a second consecutive “Gold Ball” state championship trophy.
Something good blossoms
Nobody is questioning whether Lance did the right thing anymore. Though he is seriously considering college offers, the Oshkosh experience could not be rivaled, professionally or emotionally. Where there is sadness, there also is fulfillment.
“It only goes to show you that if you do what’s in your heart and do it with passion, things will work out,” Lance says. “I was saying to my wife, `Life is just unbelievable. I don’t know how else to say it.’ It’s terrible and tragic but wonderful and surprising, and you can’t have tunnel vision about how you think life will be or it will slip by you.
“We were at rock bottom, and while winning games doesn’t bring back my dad or make us miss him any less, out of this mess something great has come for so many people.”
Steve Randall understood what a simple sport could mean but held no romantic notions about the reality of the business.
No, he was about the journey, the lessons learned, the smaller moments, and so is his son. In another 10 years, the Randalls’ influence still will be felt. Steve started the Oshkosh Basketball Club for kids starting in 3rd grade. Lance has taken it over.
“I don’t want to get overly symbolic about what basketball is, but it’s really not about putting the ball through the hoop,” Lance says. “It’s about distractions and complications and roadblocks thrown your way and finding a way to get together and get through it as a group. I don’t think we were trying to hide behind it, but it became part of the process, part of the journey of healing.”
Part of the journey of hope.
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