Over-analyzing No. 1: Seasons end. I ramble.

WARNING: It is very possible you will wish you could have the five minutes of your life you spent reading this back. You can't, so proceed with caution. It was written to help me find my point and not because I actually had one. So why post it you ask? Because I just spent two hours writing it, and I can't have that time back either. If enough of you like hating that you read it, I might over-analyze some more stuff.

I watched the Scott City boys basketball team lose to Crystal City Wednesday night. The Rams' season ended as did the high school basketball careers of Landon Robert, Zach Cotner, Tyler Adams and Logan Henson.

Watching this scene play out time and time again as seasons come to an end is not one of my favorite things about reporting. There often are tears and sometimes painful what if's. Occasionally there's anger while other times players don't seem all that disappointed. Most everyone says they're proud and that they've worked hard, and I believe them.

I usually end up thinking about the team and players for much of the night, like I'm thinking about the Rams now.

I've yet to decide how to explain these moments, and I've spent and inordinate amount of time thinking about that over the last few years.

I'm the kind of person who can lose three hours in an otherwise productive day discussing the definition of "it." You know, that "it" that some players just have and some just do not. I can over-think anything and I often do, which is why I end up writing rambling blog posts like this one at 4 a.m.

My perspective on these season-ending moments is different than most people. I'm not personally invested in the team like a family member or fan, but I'm also not a detached observer.

I covered the Scott City boys maybe five times this season and watched them play another half dozen or so games that I didn't write about. I also had some fairly hilarious exchanges with many of the team members during the volleyball season while they were fans in the stands. I've ran into Cotner, Adams, Robert and junior Ryan Brock while shopping in Cape and talked to a couple of them at other events, like Cotner at his All-Missourian football team photo shoot.

Do I know any of them? Not really. We talk for a few minutes at a time, mostly about the game they just played, and then go back to our day. Are we friends? No, but I do like them. Do we keep in touch? Nope.

But I get to tell their stories -- their sports stories anyway -- and I try not to take that for granted because they are important stories and because it is a privilege.

That's why I wish I could find a satisfactory way to describe the endings as I see them. I suppose it's different for every team and player, but I can't help but think there's something that binds them all together. Even the ones the end in state championships have something in common with the ones that end in heartbreaking defeat. The seniors on last season's state champion Scott County Central team seemed equally disappointed it was all over and thrilled they had won.

Calling these moments sad is selling them short. Pretending they're some poetic life moment that should be used to celebrate achievement or put life in perspective is probably going to far. The day I played my last high school volleyball game in a state sectional is not a day I would list as one of the most important or influential in my life.

This isn't going to be something I stop thinking about anytime soon, although writing this has provided some headway.

I think maybe what I see are teenagers growing up. Maybe I see some kind of learning, but the lessons probably depend on the player.

Growing up isn't all that fun and being taught isn't nearly as enjoyable as having learned, but sports are persistent teachers. Even for those of us watching.