Elite Eight: Josie’s last game tears up dad

By Todd Gottula, Kearney Hub Staff



KEARNEY — He sits here, 10 rows up and 522 miles from home, in a gymnasium he has never visited. The sleeves of his tan sweater are pushed up to his elbows.

Steve Lidke can’t stop staring at the basketball court where his daughter, Josie, is playing for Franklin Pierce in the first round of the NCAA Division II Women’s Elite Eight.

He watched his little girl grow from the quiet kid who practiced jumpers in her driveway to co-captain for one of the top college teams in the country.

“I’m proud of her,” he says. “Basketball has given us a lot of great memories.”

Those memories started about 14 years ago when Steve taught Josie to dribble a basketball.

Wednesday, her career ended. Alaska Anchorage pulled out a 71-65 overtime win to end Franklin Pierce’s season at 27-6.

What goes through a dad’s mind as he watches his kid play her final college game?

“I feel bad for her,” he says. “I haven’t thought much about this moment. Now that it’s here, I’m not sure what to say. Basketball has always been a major part of our relationship.”

The Lidkes will have to find something else to fill that void, said Steve, who drove eight hours from Chaska, Minn., with his wife, Geri Sue, to watch Josie play in Kearney.

Like many attending this week’s Elite Eight, basketball has defined the Lidke family.

Steve coached his daughter from fourth through ninth grade.

He told her to play with intensity. He reminded her to have fun, play hard. He told her the same thing before Wednesday’s game.

“I could see at a young age that she was going to be a good player. She’s always been very competitive.”

There’s no fancy book or 10-step guide on how to be a good basketball dad. Somehow, Steve Lidke figured it out.

Maybe it was the long drives to youth tournaments and years of sitting on rickety bleachers in small, drafty gyms. Maybe it came from his own experiences as a college football player at St. Olaf College.

Somehow, he learned how to let his daughter succeed — and fail — on the basketball court. He’s never felt the need to get too involved.

“I gave her advice if she asked for it, but for the most part I kept my distance. She’s a smart kid and good player, and she didn’t need any help from me figuring things out.”

Josie says her dad helped her build character and confidence. He’s her role model and confidant. They share a special bond developed from years of athletic pursuits.

“I play the way he taught me. That means intense,” says Josie, who honed her skills as a kid by playing games of 21 with her dad and brother late into the night. “Those are great memories. We played in the dark for hours.”

Wednesday was the first time this season that Josie’s parents saw her play in person. Since they live 1,600 miles away from Franklin Pierce’s New Hampshire campus, they are forced to watch games over the Internet. They only saw her play in person about two times each year during her college career.

“It was great looking up in the stands and seeing them here. My parents can’t get to most of my games, so it meant so much to have them here today,” Josie said.

“We wouldn’t have missed this tournament for anything,” replied her dad.

As the final seconds ran off the clock Wednesday, Steve Lidke hung his head and stared at the floor. Geri Sue gently put her hand on his shoulder.

Neither said a word. It was awkward silence in a place full of noise. Finally, Steve lifted his head.

“That’s too bad,” he said, peeking at the scoreboard. “That was a tough one.”

Outwardly, he let out a deep breath and cracked a smile.

But inside, as his daughter left the court for the final time, it was easy to tell this moment was ripping him apart.

“She is a beautiful young lady,” his wife said. “She’s really grown up.”

“This is tough. I didn’t think it would be this hard,” he said.

Basketball can have that kind of power.

The power of love.