I was recently asked what the best day of my life was. Other than the obvious, like the day my children were born, I had trouble answering. There are countless moments where everything  fits into place, like an impromptu jitterbug with Jacques at a Paul Simon concert, or Emily sitting on the kitchen counter watching me cook. Snippets, flashes, and morsels are here, there, and everywhere.

When Catholic High School advanced to the state finals, New Iberia was energized, and memories of that same town back in 1974 that was electric with excitement came flooding back. When the Panthers won the championship, I knew exactly how they felt, and it tossed me back to a split second when I was surrounded by four girls I shared a court and my life with.  As seventh-graders at Mt. Carmel in the fall of 1968, Mary Ellen Bonin Harris, a senior at Mt. Carmel, and the person who introduced me to Aretha Franklin, heroically volunteered to coach us and we went on to win the league championship both years. In the fall of 1970, that same group, now with the addition of Donna Delaune Gautreaux and my mother as our coach, took to the hardwood in our junior varsity years beating everyone wherever we went. In the spring of 1971, we enjoyed our first championship as freshmen from the stands, and in the spring of 1974, that same first five consisting of all seniors beat Welsh in a hard-fought battle of the fittest 34-33 in the state finals. With seconds left, Michelle Courtois Evans hung on to the ball and I knew she’d never let it go. The four remaining stood scattered, with one eye on Michelle because our coach preached, “see the ball,” and another on the scoreboard. As the buzzer sounded, Sister Immaculata trotted out from underneath the bleachers with a veil and a rosary flying behind her, and the entire auditorium, minus Welsh, along with parents, grandparents, friends and, even, strangers charged the court. We didn’t look that great on paper, but we had a lot of heart, and we were scrappy.

With school buses trailing, the ride home on the old Shea bus is vague, but I remember the rosary, the quiet, the dark, and the sting of our last ride together as comrades in arms. At Sunday Mass, students wore school uniforms in honor of us, Art Fleming’s sign outside First Federal read, “Just Super! Mt. Carmel Cubs State Champs” and the Kiwanis Club honored us at a luncheon where they handed over the Key to the City to our coach. The town faithfully followed our team in the newspaper and all across the state traveling on dark roads we shouldn’t have traveled upon. They witnessed wins, losses, nail-biting overtimes, rocks thrown at our bus, technical-happy referees, ejections and, even, some bloody noses along the way. We had no fanfare when we returned late that night, no media coverage, except for a cassette tape of Art Suberbielle calling the game, and very few photographs. 

We graduated a few months later in St. Peter’s Catholic Church. Co-captains Carole Delcambre Landry and I carried the massive 3-foot state trophy up the main aisle during the Offertory Procession, then it was all over in the blink of an eye. But the memories have never faded, and the friendships remain strong, even after 43 years.

Congratulations Big Red, and welcome to the exclusive state champion club. If you cherish and respect it always, your membership will last a lifetime!

PHYLLIS BELANGER MATA was born at the old Dauterive Hospital and grew up on Wayne Street. She is a 1974 graduate of Mt. Carmel Academy and is a chili dog “without the wiener” aficionado.