A moment a little less dubious than my first post:
The first team I coached was awful. They were 8th graders. Didn't win a single game in 7th grade, didn't win a single game with me. They loved the game though. I stayed with them through high school. Summer camps. Streetball. Open gyms. We played all the time.
They still weren't great in high school. Struggled the first three and a half years. Began to turn it on a bit toward the end of their senior year (I was an assistant on that squad). They managed to slip their way into the district championship game (drew a first round bye, defeated an underwhelming foe in round 2). Their championship opponent had already destroyed my kids twice that year, once putting them on a running clock (for a lead of 30 or more).
Then it all came together. My undersized point who used to bomb from 26 feet on the streets, began pulling & hitting in-game. My hustler who never missed an open gym but always wanted more PT finally accepted his small role and made the most of it. My grumpy big man fouled out and became the biggest cheerleader on the bench. All the cliche stuff.
Still, with 10 seconds remaining in OT, they trailed by one. Then this:
Still gives me goosebumps.
The TV footage: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kaMiPPvOB44