Meet Jeffrey Dransfeldt, the prototypical high school bench warmer: 135 pounds and as quick as a 60-year-old marathon runner, with the silky-smooth jumper to match.
It’s not easy being the bench warmer. Minutes are few. Acclaim is rare.
Taking a back seat to the stars is essentially a science, and after two years of high school basketball, I had it down.
I became the chair connoisseur. Cushioned chairs, metal chairs, plastic benches – you name it, I tested it.
This was reality television at its best. I sat and watched, allowing others to receive the full brunt of the coach’s criticism when the team didn’t play well.
If anyone was missing a pair of black socks (the socks everyone on the team was expected to wear at each game), I had extras.
My airtight, baseline to baseline, tough-nosed defense was a secret that needed to be protected at all costs, so I stayed on the bench my freshman year.
Sophomore year, my sandwich and chips from lunch quickly met the front lawn after the first day of training, so I quit that season to play city league basketball.
Something came over me my junior year, and I felt the urge to try out for the school team again. Few enter high school basketball expecting to spend more time watching cheerleaders, finding familiar faces in the crowd and adjusting their warm-up suits than posting up players, but something about friends’ ribbings got me interested.
I made the team, and reclaimed my role as No. 1 on the bench.
My high school playing days weren’t all I imagined they would be, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy them. The friendships and the relationships were worthwhile.
The playing time, when it did come, was nice. Cheers for this bench warmer didn’t come from those who appreciate talent, but from girls who came to the game for the social scene and chanted “Jeffrey, Jeffrey” whenever I made my rare appearance.
I remember one game in particular. My team had already ensured its win – a bench warmer’s dream – and here I came for my two-minute cameo.
With time dwindling, Coach called a play designed to get me the ball. I passed in the ball, ran off a screen and let fly a deep three-pointer near our bench. The ball bounced into the hoop and after the buzzer sounded seconds later, I achieved Celebrity Bench Warmer status with a high-five from the coach and pats on the back from teammates. Bench warmers do have a role after all, whether it is providing an extra player in practice or amusement for the remaining fans at the end of a blowout. Someone’s got to do it, and I maximized my bench warming skills to the fullest.
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