More Than a Season

On May 18, 1992, Kevin Garner sat down at his computer to begin putting together the end-of-year booklet he created for each player. The first page was always a letter to the team. He wrestled with how to best capture the season—how to say goodbye to this team as he looked forward to the next.

Two months had passed since the end of a 25-2 season, a dream year for the Clark County Indians. The pain of coming up short of Columbia still lingered. But so did the joy. The pride. The love.  It’s easy to feel the impact of that season and the individuals that shaped it. The difficult part is putting into words what a team like that means to you.  But the school year was ending, and it was time to let the emotions out and onto paper.

Garner, then in just his second year as varsity boy’s head coach in Kahoka, let his fingers slowly move across the keys.

"It has been great having you this year on the team. We have been through a lot in such a short season. The lows of losing the Palmyra and District Tournament will never diminish the highs this season has accomplished; being 25-2 and ranked No. 1 in state, beating Keokuk, Fort Madison, Brookfield, and winning the Highland Tournament for the first time in school history. 

All of these memories will stay with me for a long time, and I hope they are as memorable for you...

Sincerely,

Coach Kevin D. Garner"

 

He didn’t know it then, but that letter would outlive the box scores. The stats would fade. The games would blur. But that message—and the meaning behind it—would become something timeless.

Coming into that 1991–92 season, there wasn’t much reason to believe it would be special. Seven players had graduated from the previous year’s district championship team. Just three players with real varsity experience remained—Kevin Ross, Bill Esterday, and Troy Hamner. There was talent waiting in the wings, but it was unproven. Juniors like Travis Ellison, Matt Dienst, and Ryan Walker were expected to contribute. Seniors Scott Nutter and Travis Eddleman were ready for their shot. But most of the basketball world expected the Indians to slide.

Garner didn’t. “As a coach, I was always optimistic,” he said. “There was anticipation, excitement—and, truth be told, a little angst.”

Garner believed the pieces were there. He believed in their fast pace, their perimeter shooting, and their bench depth. But belief only gets you so far. Something else had to happen.

And it did.

From the opening tip of the season, the Indians looked different. They thrashed Canton behind five threes from Hamner. They pulled away from Scotland County with a 19-7 run sparked by back-to-back threes. When Highland threatened, it was the bench—players like Brandon Worrell grabbing key rebounds and blocking shots—that sealed a comeback win. They overwhelmed Keokuk with pressure defense. They caught fire from deep, averaging nine threes a game. Suddenly, people were watching.

The team wasn’t just winning—the players were buying in.

With each victory, the fast starts kept coming, the three-pointers kept falling, and the scoring stayed balanced. If this were a film, now’s when you’d cue the montage of blowout wins.

As the streak continued, so did their rise in the Missouri Class 2A state poll — up to No. 2. They edged host Highland and claimed the Highland Tournament title, a first in the event’s two-decade history.

But pressure has a way of sneaking in. It can harden a team. Other times, it starts to splinter it. And for a moment, you could sense the tension creeping in.

Garner noticed it too. The week before back-to-back showdowns with Brookfield and Fort Madison, he sensed a lack of concentration. So he did something unusual.

“I blew the whistle and told all of them to grab their outside shoes and jackets. We loaded the bus, drove out to the track… then passed it and went to the bowling alley,” he said. “Our practice that day was a bowling tournament and pizza.”

Garner wasn’t overlooking either opponent—he just knew his team needed to relax.

It worked. 

The next night, more than a thousand fans squeezed into Edna L. Seyb Auditorium to watch Clark County take on No. 4 ranked Brookfield and their 6’8” junior star, Brian Kelley. What they saw was a classic. The Indians forced 20 turnovers and wore down the Bulldogs. 

Troy Hamner made a deal with his coach: win by ten or more, and practice would be a breeze. But for every point under ten? One dreaded wind sprint.

“We were up 8 with less than 30 seconds left and Travis Ellison was on the line,” Garner recalls. “Troy came over to me, pinched me, and said, ‘See, I told you! Ellison is going to hit both of these and we’re going to win by 10.’”  Ellison only hit one. The Indians won by 9.  

No sprints were ran the next practice.

Coaches want their players to embrace the opportunity, not be overwhelmed by it. They try to not be stagnant at any point during the season – constantly evolving their team and each individual so they keep improving. This is what allows you to peak at the right time. There is no greater test than to schedule back-to-back games against two highly coveted teams in their respective states.

So, the very next night, they crossed state lines to play Fort Madison (IA) and 6’9” future NBA player Ryan Bowen. Fourteen of Ft. Madison’s fifteen players were taller than six feet. But the height of Ft. Madison did not deter Clark County’s senior 6’2” center Kevin Ross, who scored ten points in the first quarter to put the Indians up by five. The Indians fell behind in the second half but never folded. Ryan Walker came off the bench and hit two big threes. They rallied in the fourth quarter to win 56-53. They were 14-0.

If they wanted to earn the state’s top ranking, they had to go through the giants to get there—and they did. That weekend became the turning point—a proving ground. Slaying a giant one night and toppling a titan the next, the Indians not only held their ground; they claimed it.

Within the week, the Indians would earn the No. 1 state ranking in Missouri Class 2A. “Did I think we’d start 15-0 and be ranked No. 1?” Garner said, “As we headed into the Highland Tournament, I knew this team had an opportunity to be very special.”

And special they were. A 15-0 start. Seven different leading scorers throughout the year. Many nights there were 4-5 players in double figures. Players sacrificing ego for the team. “They played so hard, shared the ball so well, and helped each other out. It was the key ingredient to their success.” Garner said.

With each win, the noise grew louder. Whispers of playing in the Hearnes Center began to crescendo. Garner recalled, “I thought we had a legitimate shot at winning a state championship when we were 19-1. I was sharing game film and talking with coaches from all over the state. The Eugene coach and I had become good friends as well as the coach down in Alton. He was ranked 4th and was 14-0. Both of these coaches had shared with me that we had a chance.”

But as every coach knows, even the most magical seasons aren’t guaranteed the storybook ending.

The final heartbreak came against Highland. Again.  This time, it was in the District Championship, their fourth clash of the season. Down eight in the fourth, they clawed back to within one. They had the final shot to tie. It bounced off the rim.

And the dream ended.

“Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good,” Garner said. “For a season like that to happen, everything has to go right. And we were so close.”

Still, seasons like that don’t just disappear when the scoreboard turns off. They stay with you. They teach you things.

Two years later, Garner would move on to Sullivan, where he’d take a team to the Final Four in 1997. He credited the 91–92 team for shaping that run. “They were mirror images,” he said. “One of the greatest lessons learned was to enjoy the season and help the players enjoy it too.”

Thirty years later, he still talks about them like they’re family.

“The coaching staff felt like every member of the team was one of their own.  We hurt when they hurt. We laughed when they laughed. And most of all, one of the greatest gifts is to see them now—succeeding in life, raising families.”

In 2018, Garner stood center court again. This time, handing out state medals to the Clark County girls' team in his role as Assistant Executive Director at the Missouri State High School Activities Association (MSHSAA). One of the players? The daughter of Kevin Ross, his center from 1991–92.

“Presenting the medals to those girls was one of the highlights of working at the MSHSAA office,” he said. “I absolutely thought about how close the 91–92 boys team came. I wish we had been able to accomplish that as a group.”

But the truth is, they did accomplish something. Something bigger than a trophy.

They carried the torch lit by the teams before them—teams that had already defined what it meant to wear Clark County across your chest. And in their own way, they added to that legacy. They inspired. They didn’t just chase greatness—they helped shape the standard. And because of them, the teams that followed didn’t have to start from scratch. They were building on something strong. Something real. Something nobody could tear down.

The team also gave a coach the season of his life—a season that never stopped meaning something.

More than thirty years after the final buzzer of the 1991–92 season, Kevin Garner paused to reflect on the team that shaped a chapter of his life. He once again searched for the right words, hoping to capture what that season still meant. He then began to type a final letter to his 1991–92 team. This is what he shared:

“Dear Troy Hamner, Scott Hunziker, Bill Esterday, Travis Ellison, Matt Dienst, Greg Weaver, John Wheeler, Justin Brunk, Travis Eddleman, Scott Nutter, Ryan Walker, Kevin McVeigh, Kevin Ross, Brandon Worrell, Tony O’Brien, David Parker, Jason Acklie, Chris James, Jarrod Field, Terry Sturm, Chauncey Wilson, and Eric Young,

THANK YOU!

Thank you for allowing me to be a small part of your life. Thank you for sharing a game that I enjoy and love. Thanks for teaching me how to navigate life through the lessons learned in a game’s disappointments and rewards. Thank you for showing me what it means to be a part of something bigger than myself. Thank you for helping me understand what it means to be part of a family.

This is a chapter in my life that I will NEVER forget. Each of you — regardless of your role on the team — truly touched my life through a game that was played during the 1991–92 school year. If I could turn back time and replay that season, there are very few things I would want to change. There are a couple of outcomes I would work hard to make happen.

Etched in my mind forever are your faces, your tears, your smiles, the team dinners, the winning shots, the celebrations, the huge wins, the marking of the Tomahawk after each victory — but most of all, the friendships.

Thank you for being some of the greatest young men a person could have the opportunity to coach.

Love you all,

Coach Kevin Garner”

As the years have passed, Kevin Garner has coached other teams, handed out championship medals, and walked countless sidelines. But no matter how far life has taken him, a piece of his heart always drifts back to the small gym in Kahoka. To the team that reminded him why he fell in love with coaching in the first place—the team that showed him how a season can carry both joy and heartbreak in equal measure, and how both are worth holding onto.

In a career full of games and seasons and teams, this one never really left him. It still shows up from time to time, in unexpected ways. Their voices still echo in quiet moments, their faces show up in old photographs and unexpected memories—including a few that feel especially sacred now. And when it does, he’s reminded that the best seasons aren’t always defined by where they end, but by who you walk through them with.

“All of these memories will stay with me for a long time,” Garner once wrote, “and I hope they are as memorable for you…”