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PHOTO: Members of the Lawrence High School state championship basketball teams of 1991-94, and their coach, Bruce Cooper, center rear, gathered recently at the Quarry Taproom in Hallowell. (Submitted photo)
By Aimée N. Lanteigne
As we grow older, we often reflect on the moments in life that gave us the most joy. For a handful of women now in mid-life, that includes a time three decades ago when they had enough luck, talent and guts to cobble together a glory road full of milestones.
On March 18, 18 former members of the Lawrence High School girls basketball team gathered at The Quarry Tap Room in Hallowell to celebrate the man who paved our way, Bruce Cooper.
The second season started with high hopes. A group of solid seniors was joined by a freshman phenom from Clinton, Cindy Blodgett. When the team started out 3-2, we wondered if we were as good as we thought we were. Coach let us know in a heart to heart he wanted all or nothing, and backed it up with a a grueling, and 32 years later, still infamous no-balls practice. We won our next game by more than 50 points, then cruised to top seed in the playoffs.
Fast forward through quarters, semis, and Eastern Maine final, and we were exactly where we’d hoped, the state championship. On March 16, 1991, the Bulldogs from Fairfield made up for being outsized by the Bulldogs from Portland with heart. Our stifling fourth quarter defensive juggernaut kept the ball out of Portland’s hands. Coach had his first gold ball.
He must have dreamed, but never expected, that the next season’s team could make another championship run. But the Bulldogs didn’t lose a game, then faced Portland again in the state final. Lawrence won by 17.
In 1993, Coach lost the seniors who were a huge part of the state championship teams. But with Cindy Blodgett still good for two more seasons, backed up by the Atwood twins, the 1993 Bulldog arsenal never ran dry.
In the championship game against Westbrook, Lawrence pulled won by a mere bucket. But a win is a win. The championship trifecta was achieved!
While the team celebrated on the bus ride home, Coach and his assistants Tim Alberts, Ron Voisine and Scott Ballard were already talking about November. Cindy and the twins had one year left. There was no one – no one! male or female – a coach would rather have as floor general than Blodgett. She played with poise, excitement, humility and fire. She was clutch when clutch was just a gear on a standard Impala. She made everyone around her better. She had helped elevate the seniors who came before her to greatness. Now it was her turn.
The Bulldogs geared up for one last season of late nights, long bus rides, grueling practices, interviews, college recruiters, and sports reporters asking, “Do they have one more championship in them?” Those of us who played for Cooper knew the answer. The Bulldogs plowed through the regular season and in their 22nd contest of the year, they once again beat Portland, this time 56-53, for their fourth straight state title.
The Lawrence girls would win gold again in 2015 and 2023, but never again would a team of girls from Albion, Benton, Clinton and Fairfield win four in a row. Every girl contributed. Some lit up the scoreboard, others ripped rebound after rebound, dove for loose balls, made unselfish assists or cheered like crazy from the bench. Each championship needed every one of us. That’s what teams are all about. Coach and Blodgett, however, were the key. They carried the torch from that first, very special, gold ball to the fourth.
We were part of a dynasty, true, but we were also a family. That’s what good coaches do. They don’t just develop the athletes’ skills, they develop the heart of the woman. Coach’s ability to lead us to victory on the court was matched only by his ability to make each of us believe we were special.
So, three decades later, we gathered to honor the man who has done so much for us.
“Is this payback for that no balls practice?” Coach shouted over the laughter and chorus of, “YES!”
The team presented Coach with a signed gold ball and two hand-crafted Bulldog cornhole boards made by our beloved seventh-grade teacher Mr. J.
“I haven’t seen a doctor in two years, and I was kind of wondering if I was dying or something and this was your way of telling me,” Coach said. “I have always dreamed of getting you guys together again, and if I’m the cause of it, so be it.” He stopped to gather himself, tears welling. “You are right about family. You guys are just like family. And I love you. And I didn’t say it just because of ‘Hoosiers.’” (After the first championship, he told us he loved us, a moment right out of the movie “Hoosiers.” We will always remember it.) “I think we all had a real good relationship with one another. There were a lot of sacrifices by everybody. You put in way more time. You earned what you got.”
He choked up one last time. “I couldn’t be prouder. Thank you.”
Many of us won’t see each other again until our 50th championship reunion. By then Coach will be an old man. He was an athlete in his day and his beloved wife, Maureen, a basketball icon in her own right, takes good care of him, so we hope he’ll celebrate that milestone with us. His girls will huddle around him once more, guiding him gently down the earthen road of gold he helped us pave, onto the next Glory Road.
Until then, cheers to the Bulldogs. To four gold balls. And cheers to the man who made it all possible. We love you, Coach.
