The team had finished dressing out from practice and were waiting in the locker room for the second-period bell to ring. When the heavy door closed behind Coach Smitty and Coach Washington, no one bothered to look up. Like all locker rooms, there were the usual smells—sweat, dirty laundry, and Axe body spray—but the typical excitement, music, and laughter was nowhere to be found. It was quiet, and it was cold.

Coach Washington murmured, “Tell me what you see, Smitty.”

“A locker room. Guys getting ready for class, some towels that didn't make it into the basket… .” He paused his observation to shout out to a freshman lineman, “Hey, Williams! Stop acting like a freshman. Towels go in the basket, not next to the basket!”

Turning back to his friend, Coach Smitty said, “Sorry, Coach. Where was I? Um, I see guys getting ready for class, laundry baskets, and equipment. On the walls, I see the ‘Six Pillars’”:

TOUGH PEOPLE WIN

INTEGRITY OVER EVERYTHING

GROWTH FOLLOWS BELIEF

EXCELLENCE EVERYWHERE

RELENTLESS EFFORT

SERVICE BEFORE SELF

“What's your point, Rod? This is all stuff you'd see in any locker room.”

“Yes, Coach. Those things are ordinary. But look again. Look past all those things. Look at where the kids are sitting and who they're sitting with.”

It was as if Coach Washington's words had turned on a light in a dark room. For the first time, Coach Smitty saw that the athletes were clumped together in groups. Not by grade or position on the field, but by their race. Black athletes on one side of the locker room, Hispanic athletes down at the other end, several groups of white athletes on another side, and a small group of Asian athletes in the corner. His team, undefeated and marching toward its first state championship in school history, had self-segregated itself.

“Rod, What's going on here?” Coach Smitty stammered.

“Coach Smitty,” Coach Washington began, “What you are seeing in your locker room is young men doing what they've been taught to do in the face of racial tension: retreat to their own corners. We no longer have one team. We now have multiple teams, each with allegiance to their own race, and about 60 percent of our locker room thinks you are on Davey's team, not theirs.”

Coach Smitty began to replay that morning's practice in his mind. The players were agitated, but he had dismissed it as intensity. That was wrong. The guys weren't competing harder to get ready for Friday night; they were at each other's throats! It was starting to come into focus for him.

Coach Smitty looked to Coach Washington and, in that moment, he felt more than shame. He felt the weight of disappointing those who had trusted him to lead them, and of letting down his athletes, himself, and his best friend.

His shoulders slumped. “Rod, I am so very sorry,” he said, “I can't believe that I didn't see this. You told me on Saturday that I needed to talk about the incident with the team, but I ignored you. The pressure. The championship. The fear of what people would say. I messed up. I am so, so, very sorry.”

Before Coach Washington could respond, the bell for second period rang and the athletes, segregated by race, began to file out, group by group. Not a single person said a word to Coach Smitty. Neither Marcellus nor Davey would meet his eyes as they passed.

The two coaches stood in the doorway of the locker room for a few minutes. Coach Smitty, equal parts embarrassed, ashamed, angry, and determined, looked to Coach Washington and said, “Coach, I didn't see it before, but I see it now. From the outside looking in, we've got so much going right for us. But one look inside our locker room and it's obvious we aren't right with each other.”

“We'll never be right with each other as long as we've got a broken locker room,” Coach Washington agreed.

Coach Smitty thought for a second, and said, “Okay, here's what I'm going to do, Rod. I'm going to do what you suggested this weekend and publicly hold Davey accountable. I'll have Davey apologize to the team. That should fix this problem of his stupid comments last Friday night.”

Coach Washington slowly shook his head. “Smitty, you can't fix Monday's problems with Saturday's solution. Just by the fact that you called Davey's comments ‘stupid’ tells me you have missed what the real problem is here or how to fix it.”

Coach Smitty, confused, asked his friend to explain what the real problem was.

“Racism, Smitty. Davey's comments were racist and you backing him up is a by-product of racism. The team isn't right with each other because of racism.”