The desperation last shot clanged off the rim, a little short and wide right. It was over. What was supposed to be a dream season ended in tears and frustration in the first round of the district playoffs.

We were a favorite to win it all, to run the table in the grueling tournament and take home Michigan’s Class B 1983 State Basketball Championship.

That all changed about two days before the tournament started. We finished the regular season 19-1, our only loss coming to the number one team in Class C- St. Martin DePorres out of Detroit. They beat us by one point in our gym in front of about 5,000 fans.

That whole season had been like that. Every game, home or away, was played in front of thousands of fans. After our bus rides home we were greeted by fans in the parking lot of the school.

We came from 20 points behind and beat our arch rival Monroe Catholic Central in overtime, in their barn, and almost literally had to fight our way out of their gym.

We were the first team ever to run the table in our conference. We had talent, and size and confidence. We were going to be hard to beat.

Then, because you can never have it too good, the hammer fell.

A couple days before the tournament started, an anonymous phone call to the state high school athletics office indicated that one of our players, a transfer from Detroit Western, was in his fifth year of high school… and therefore ineligible. The caller went on to indicate that the administration at my school knew he was ineligible and let him play anyway.

A very quick investigation took place… and as you might guess… he was ruled ineligible and our 19 wins were wiped out. Actually… that was the headline in the Detroit News: “Ineligible: Riverview Wiped Out.” I can still see it when I close my eyes and think about it.

The next day our starting forward broke his jaw in an altercation over a girl.

In 36 hours we went from favorite to floundering. 0-20, missing two starters- and only one day before the tournament.

We were matched up with Gibralter-Carlson, and oh by the way, their coach was widely believed to be the guy who called the state athletics office. This was a team we beat by 30 both times we played them in the regular season.

It was the toughest game I had ever played in, and probably looking back the most fun. We lost by two. The dream season became a nightmare in the blink of an eye.

I don’t know what my school’s administration knew, or didn’t know, about Randy’s eligibility. I prefer to think they didn’t, but I don’t know how something like that would get overlooked. A fifth year of high school, I would think, would stand out.

And the truth is we were a very good team without Randy but we were better with him.

We thought it was over when the season ended until every player received a letter from a fan. At first, more anonymous interaction was less than welcome. And then we read the letter.

It thanked us for the best basketball season our school had ever had. It thanked us for representing our city, and for winning with class. It thanked us for the wild ride and even thanked us for the way we carried ourselves when everything came crashing down.

We were surprised. A year that we thought had ended in shame turned out to be just the opposite. It galvanized our community, and made people proud to live in our little burg about 20 minutes south of Detroit.

That’s what high school sports does- in the timeline of a community’s existence one season is a blink of an eye. But that season can bring people together, it allows them to unite for a common cause, to cheer for something that represents their own lives, their own upbringing, their own existence on a bigger stage- even if only for a moment in time.

The next season, my senior year, we had graduated four starters and three reserves and we were not very good.

The moment, clearly, was gone.

Brian is Creative Services Director for FOX 11and My Tucson TV-18.