[Editor’s note: On Wednesday, February 5th, @DocLibby sent out this tweet. Two days later, I am extremely excited to introduce her as our newest columnist here at The Assembly Call. You may be familiar with her son … he’s the one who drained seven 3-pointers on Super Bowl Sunday to lead Indiana to a victory over Michigan.

In her first post, Dr. Ferrell describes what it was like to be there in Assembly Hall watching her son play the best game of his young career.]

*****

“So Tom, what’s the plan for the game on Sunday?”

This is the question I casually asked Coach Tom Crean, referring to the Michigan versus IU game. He let out a slight laugh and leaned in.

“Do you promise not to tweet it?” he asked.

His plan worked to perfection.

A born athlete … and winner

My son Yogi Ferrell knows how to win, and he does not like to lose. But who does, right?

Since starting biddy ball at the local YMCA at the age of three, Yogi has had fire in his eyes and a desire in his heart that is infectious to his teammates.

Unfortunately, the will to win is not all that is needed to squeak into the top of a conference that is packed with teams and players who have a similar passion.

The declining favoritism that Yogi was receiving from fans and some in the media after disappointing games against Northwestern and Penn State was used as fuel to better his shot, which he slowly realized had changed somehow. This sparked late-night sessions with a hardwood floor and a leather ball that only knows how to bounce back.

It can be lonely at the top, but it can be even lonelier on the way down.

Yogi isn’t about to let that happen. I constantly remind him that you’re only as good as your last game.

As the first born, he was afforded the sole attention of loving parents who only wanted to see him succeed. Although basketball is where he would eventually hang his hat, Yogi was exposed to many sports, including the traditional ones like baseball, football, and soccer, as well as ones you might not suspect … such as gymnastics.

That’s right, Yogi was a gymnast.

I would steer clear of asking him to do a full turn or a back tuck, but the resulting finesse on the court can be easily witnessed as he floats down the floor and dances around his opponents.

The references and similarities to a linebacker are endless, and the hand-eye coordination fostered in baseball is evident.

Unmistakably, this kid was born to play sports.

A mother’s pregame prayers

Fast forward to Sunday, February 2nd … to the pre-game buzz about an AP #10-ranked Michigan team loaded with talent and a non-ranked IU team struggling game to game as they try to climb from the dismal ranks of the Big Ten Conference’s bottom half.

It is never known which IU team will show up to play. For fans, this can be quite nerve wracking. Will it be the team that rallied together for a notable win against Wisconsin? Or the lackluster team that could not put together enough energy for 40 minutes of play against Northwestern?

As I sit in the stands at Assembly Hall and watch the two teams warm up, I say a silent prayer for the son I’ve watched grow into quite the talented basketball player.

I pray for a touch on the ball that is forgiving every time it leaves Yogi’s hands and sails toward its projected destination of a rim that is only slightly larger than the ball it was made to accommodate.

I pray for no injuries.

I pray AGAIN for no injuries.

I pray for the team as a whole.

“We’ve got this,” I say quietly to myself, feeling as if I just laced up and stepped onto the floor. My heart is pounding in sync with the Indiana fight song that I know all too well.

I always hope that from the first jump ball they have a high level of energy, the kind that Coach Crean is always preaching about.

“I need Yogi to be a leader,” says Coach Crean. “I need for him to be become more vocal on the court.”

Me too Coach, me too.

Yogi’s hard work pays off

As the game begins, Yogi is doing what he does best.

He is the general on the floor. His court vision is something out of a Stephen King thriller: scary.

Suddenly, he hits a 3.

I’m always grateful for the first 3-point field goal he makes in a game because I know that it gives him confidence. It somehow breaks an unspoken curse.

I quietly recall the offense that had been revealed to me by Coach Crean, and for the next 40 minutes I watch it unfold.

After the second made 3, I feel relief.

The third and fourth 3-pointers allow me to relax, because I know that he has found his stroke. Then I am in awe with the rest of the crowd with each 3-pointer he hits after that.

Some say better lucky than good, but I know how much time — the endless hours — Yogi has put into correcting his shot with the guidance of a great coaching staff.

Lucky, maybe. Good, definitely.