By Richard Carrier
Contributing Writer

In a era where sports stars hold out for bigger multimillion dollar contracts and roster spots earn bench warmers more millions, it’s rare to see excellence in the sports world challenged and achieved through untainted commitment. And almost unheard of for that excellence to be achieved time and time again.

In this vein, I really don’t think you can put too fine a point on what tiny Blessed Sacrament Huguenot’s football program has been able to accomplish: four state championships in the past seven seasons – including the last three in a row – culminating in an 18-14 victory over Greenbrier Christian on Nov. 18.

Truly and inarguably remarkable.

With no end-zone histrionics or on-field trash-talking, the Knights have quietly and efficiently gone about their business of dissecting their competition. In some years it has been with speed, others with power and once even with an aerial attack, but always with the most effective use of the limited resources available.

In my eight-years of covering the Knights, I have never ceased to be amazed at how the BSH coaching staff manipulates and massages its roster – thirty-some strong if they’re lucky, twenty-some most years, from freshmen to seniors – into something only they could visualize when practice began.

BSH always fields a team with physical and mental toughness that holds true until the final whistle of every game…a tribute to head coach Mike Henderson and his staff.

But even as close as I have been to this program, I missed something. Two Fridays ago, tape recorder in hand, my squat “mature” body was being jostled by a couple hundred fans, parents, staff, coaches and players mobbing the BSH football field after the VIS Division 4 championship game when Kristy Henderson dodged through the mayhem to scoop me up in a big hug.

Hopefully no one saw how ludicrous I looked, standing on tip-toes with my nose stuck in the sternum of the 6-foot wife of the BSH head football coach, but I hugged her back and nodded as she managed to squeak out, “Isn’t this just awesome… just great. I’m so proud of Mike. He’s been just like a kid… couldn’t sleep…was up this morning at five o’clock worrying about the game,” in a very hoarse voice.

On the field that night were 30 kids – some not old enough to shave, some who never should’ve tried to grow facial hair in the first place, and a few certified testosterone filling stations – but no football coaches acting even remotely like a kid.

In my experience, Coach Mike had been the classic stoic; reserved and always under control. If Coach Mike Ditka was Iron Mike, to me Coach Henderson was Granite Mike – always available and receptive, but a no-nonsense interview who is quick to make sure you got it right, with credit always going to the kids and the coaching staff.

In an absolutely classic example of the head coach’s anonymity being transferred to his team, it proved almost impossible to find and give credit to the player making the most critical play, either offensively or defensively, of the game – and, in truth, of the entire season.

Late in the third quarter, with BSH clinging to a 18-14 advantage, Greenbrier needed only a half-yard to take the lead. With fullback-cornerback Jerome Robinson inserted at nose tackle for the first time in his life, the center snap missed connection and someone in a navy blue and gray uniform covered the loose ball.

With arms raised and pounding each other on the back, the Knights’ defense charged off the field, but no one in the press box could identify who recovered that absolutely critical fumble. No problem, I thought. I’ll find out after the game.

But none of the coaches knew. No problem, I’ll go to the source, the D-line.

Augie Conte claimed it wasn’t him, but might have been Stephen Bendele.

Nope, ask T.J. Dobrucky, he suggested.

“Not me,” Dobrucky said, “I think it was Ethan (Sill).”

Sill put the credit back on Bendele, who suggested it was probably Robinson, but Robinson begged off.

That left Antonio Evola, the other defensive tackle, but no, he wouldn’t take the credit either.

By that time I was getting a bit frustrated, and to the tightly packed group, loudly stated that frustration. From the rear of that circle of players came, “It was me. I got it.”

How appropriate that linebacker/tailback Nathaniel Settle, who had waited in the shadows of John Moore and Deon Watts only to become the guts of the Knights’ grind-it-out running attack, somehow came up with that game-saving fumble recovery.

And how perfectly fitting for one of Mike Henderson’s selfless football squads.