It was almost a year ago when Vivian Stringer and her Rutgers women's basketball team were playing against powerhouse Tennessee in the women's NCAA finals — a game that would later grab headlines for all the wrong reasons.
The team's incredible story was overshadowed by racially charged comments by shock jock Don Imus, who used what many would consider a racist and sexist slur while discussing the team.
Those racially charged comments forever changed the lives of a group of young players and of Stringer, one of the game's finest coaches.
Stringer heard about Imus' comments on the way back from a ceremony where her team was being honored.
"I really didn't, even then, fully appreciate the magnitude of what was being said, until I could say it over in my mind," Stringer remembered.
Stringer, who is famous for both her calm reserve and her ability to be a no-nonsense disciplinarian, didn't feel ready until now to discuss in detail what really happened between her team and Imus after last year's playoff game. Stringer said that after she grasped the magnitude of what Imus had said, she immediately thought, "How do I protect these young women who will hear this?"
The team was young — five of them freshman — and overwhelmed and hurt by what had happened. In a way, Stringer had been preparing for this all her life. She was the first black student to try out for the cheerleading squad in her high school in a coal mining town in western Pennsylvania.
"I really was gifted when it came to flips and all these other things with gymnastics, I was really gifted," Stringer said. "So I did my back flips and my round offs. And so, when they called later that day to say who the players was or the young people were that made the squad, my name wasn't called."
Stringer said she was not the type of person that ever "wanted to cause any kind of friction," and so she thought maybe she just needed to fine-tune her techniques.
"I kept thinking, well, maybe my hands weren't straight; maybe I didn't drop my voice; maybe when I did my round-off backstep that I just moved a little bit, I didn't stick to kick, you know, bad enough or hard enough."
But a NAACP representative who had watched the tryout visited her and her parents and told Stringer that she should protest her exclusion from the squad as being racially based.
"I thought, I can't do this. I don't want to cause any problems," Stringer remembered. "And so, when my father came up to talk to me about it, I didn't want to hear it. But they [said], 'If not you, then who? You must stand up, because if you don't stand up, you know, for some things, you'll fall for everything.' I will never forget that. I just sat there, and I kept looking at him [saying] 'For future generations of young people. It's not about you. It's not about you. But you have to stand up. You have to stand up.'"
Stringer went before the school board to present the case, and was given a place on the team.
Life would teach Stringer many other tough lessons. Her daughter was disabled after severe meningitis, she herself was diagnosed with breast cancer, and on Thanksgiving Day in 1992, her husband died after a sudden heart attack. She led her first team to the Final Four just five months later. She poured all those life lessons into her coaching.