Winter Coach of the Year: Highland's James Madison always finds time for fun

Quiet, intense competitor. A bit rough around the edges or, depending on perspective, snarky to the core. A hyper-competitive coach who abides by the old-school philosophy that if he isn't coaching hard, that's when you should really be worried. Yes, he yells, but not nearly as much as everyone thinks he does. Get over it. His players don't mind. They even think it's funny. Casual observers who don't understand the complicated dynamic between James Madison and his Highland girls basketball players assume the Hornets are win at all costs. Madison often sits or paces alone while appearing disinterested during junior varsity games, rarely smiles with arms crossed when roaming the sideline, sometimes doesn't shave for days and often solicits expressionless reactions from his players. What 99% of people don't see is the off-the-court Madison, who despises small talk and despite a sparkling 134-37 record at Highland remains a mysterious figure within the remarkably buddy-buddy Northeast Ohio coaching fraternity. The only people who see the real Madison are his family, basketball team and a tight social circle that lives by the bro code of if you can't bust your friend's chops and/or he doesn't bust yours back, he ain't really your friend. The Washington transplant, former Cleveland State sharpshooter and 2024-25 Gazette Winter Coach of the Year is a prodigious double- and triple-texter whose typing speed is legendary. "He's always like, 'Guess who texted me today?!" center Aleena VanKirk said. "But you should see his texts to me," said guard Grace Madison, who added Dad always has two phone chargers on hand in case one fails. "He literally responds with 'K.'" He's a low-key foodie who purposely orders more pizza than necessary so he can take home leftovers. "He'll leave practice, come back in and he'll just be gnawing on a piece of garlic bread," VanKirk said. "I'll be like, 'Where did you get that?' "And at the Aurora game, he said to me on the bench, 'Can you hold this (Pepsi) and keep it safe?"' He's still an inside joke specialist and relentless teaser who needs to be reeled in from time to time. "He always asks me if I want the credit card, then he goes like this (snaps wrist) and snatches it," Bianca Pallante said. "Then he'll be like, 'You want it?! You want it?! You want it?!"' And he bonds with his players in the most teenage girl way possible. "He loves to gossip," Grace Madison said. "Oh, my god!" "He'll be like, 'Here's what I've heard. What do you think about it?"' VanKirk added. "And we're like, uhhhh …" "He yells at us constantly," Kennedy Morgan said, "then he wants to gossip." James Madison is 100% comfortable in his own skin and aware his personality is considered socially awkward. As illustrated above, his players treat him far more like a second father — or an oddball uncle who takes any competition way too seriously at family gatherings — than their high school basketball coach. Grace Madison, VanKirk and Morgan played for James Madison since the third grade, and Grace Weber, Pallante and Grace Shondel also played for him at the youth level. They knew James Madison's quirks and basketball philosophies so well that they were basically on autopilot — in a good way — this winter, and over the years they've become apt at pushing his emotional buttons because they know his reaction will make them laugh. That was crystal clear when they made him a T-shirt of his favorite motivational saying of "Play like you're starving." Yeah, they were making fun of him. That's just how they roll. The $1 million question, though: When did they get used to his … um … coaching style? "Second game of third grade," half-sarcastic, half-serious 1,336-point scorer Morgan deadpanned with zero hesitation. While the Hornets will forever be known as the first Medina County basketball team — boys or girls — to start a season 25-0, their personalities were larger than life. They constantly tip-toed the gray area of lighthearted fun and what most coaches consider taking the sport seriously, an irony considering James Madison is a serious competitor who views the world largely in black-and-white terms. There was VanKirk, the gladiatrix on the court but the All-American girly girl off it who was most likely to cry in an emotional moment. "Cup" was universally beloved. There was Grace Madison, the sports-obsessed coach's daughter who was understandably critiqued harder by the ol' man and entrenched in the "Yeah, OK, whatever, Dad" attitude. There were Morgan sisters Kennedy and Madi, highly intelligent, confident scorers who stayed clear of being the centers of attention but loved to laugh along. Kennedy's ability to deliver a quippy one-liner in group settings may have been more prolific than her jumper. Their mother, Terri, was James' feminine complement at the youth level. There was always-in-a-good-mood Weber, who helped save the season in the tournament. There was Pallante, whose playful sass was befitting of her Italian heritage. There was Shondel, the unquestioned team clown whose over-the-top bubbly personality became amplified when she was hanging out with Grace Madison. And, last but certainly not least, there were sophomores Rowan Kildoo and Emeri Gausman, who like Shondel and Grace Madison are attached at the hip with an unlimited supply of giggles. There also were lead assistant Rick "Dubs" Wallenhorst, the scouting wizard and inbounds play caller, and Marlee "Marz" Profitt, the former Highland star who brought a fundamental, hands-on approach to practice and a big sister vibe that balanced James Madison's gruffness. The players absolutely adored both. There were nicknames for seemingly everyone, video games on the bus, inside jokes galore, using a candid photo of James Madison eating chicken off a chicken salad for the team group chat, food trips to Chipotle, McDonald's, Swenson's, Chick-fil-A and a legendary night at Wasabi Japanese Steakhouse, a cut above an eye that had a widely-recognized, on-the-record explanation and a secret off-the-record version (a.k.a. the real one), as well as funny faces and dancing during timeouts. The latter was often behind James Madison's back in futile efforts to make the seated players laugh while he was trying to bark instructions in the huddle. Six of James and Carrie Madison's eight children are girls, so he was immune to the chaos. In layman's terms, he viewed the shenanigans as followed: Were the girls doing anything inappropriate? No. Were the opposing players being disrespected? Of course not. His players were so outwardly gregarious that they were friends with half of their "enemies" anyway. Did the girls play with 100% effort on the court? No doubt. Did they win? Emphatically. Then there was no issue. "We had a talk toward the beginning of the season," VanKirk said. "It just works for us. (Goofing around) makes us closer, and I think it showed on the court. He just kinda went with it." Not that he had a choice. "All the girls bring their own unique personality to the team," he said. "They're really a fun-loving group, but when it's time to get serious, they do that as well. I really enjoyed coaching all these girls, especially the seniors. I'm going to miss being around them because they are a great group of girls. "There's a lot of pressure to win. You have to balance that seriousness of trying to get the win with it is a game and you want to have fun. That is a balance we try to work on. We try to be good with both sides of it." No county team, regardless of sport, did that better than Highland this winter. Other than two close games against rival Copley, the Hornets used Madison's always-attack offensive philosophy to annihilate the Suburban League American Conference. They got a last-second 3-pointer from Kennedy Morgan to beat Wayne County Athletic League power Chippewa and survived absolute slugfests against Medina and Twinsburg en route to becoming the first area team in 25 years to finish a regular season undefeated. Weber and Shondel then saved the season in an ugly win over upset-minded Uniontown Lake in the Division III district semifinals. Shondel followed by carrying the load in a grueling third victory over Copley, which stunningly jumped on the Hornets at the draw despite an open bracket available, to complete the main goal of a district championship. All season, James Madison promised an all-expenses-paid team dinner if the Hornets won the SL American. The players requested (err, demanded) Wasabi Japanese Steakhouse in Fairlawn — they laughed hysterically when he incorrectly pronounced it "Wu-sabi" on senior night — and he covered an $800 tab. That's only the beginning of the story, as Madison said they could order whatever food they wanted, but not pop or "exotic drinks." They, of course, instantly found this totally hypocritical given Madison's pop addiction, so they ordered every conceivable meat entrée on the menu and gulped down pop anyway — VanKirk even snuck in a Shirley Temple to troll him — though they couldn't convince him to pound a shot of saké. They weren't done, either. Someone captured a video of Madison smiling ear to ear while leaning away from the hibachi cook's huge ball of fire and sophomore Jordyn Caples convinced the staff that it was Madison's birthday — a total lie, as it's actually Dec. 8, 1976 — so the workers sang him "Happy Birthday" and provided complementary cake and ice cream. Madison has a well-earned reputation for being brutally honest, but even he couldn't turn down free sweets. "He was so happy," VanKirk affectionately said. "I've never seen him so happy." They've also never seen him so sad after the Hornets fell to Archbishop Hoban in the regional semifinals at Canton Memorial Field House. Madison walked into a stunned locker room, looked at his players and couldn't speak. He shed a few tears before finally saying, "I wish I could coach you guys forever." Even his own daughter, junior varsity leading scorer Sophia, couldn't believe it and moseyed to the stands to tell older sister Julia, who no longer plays basketball, of what had transpired. Julia's face looked exactly like the Surprised Pickachu meme, jaw-dropped and all. This is the guy who always said "You can't let them see that you're nervous," "Play like you're starving" and "Winning is the only thing that matters." Even tough guys have a soft spot, however, and Madison's is the girls basketball program he has spent more than a decade building from the ground up with his own children playing major roles. He doesn't have time for any hobbies outside of watching sports on TV, especially his hometown Seattle Seahawks and Mariners, mowing the yard and fishing for salmon and bass. He has family and basketball. That night hit him hard. "It was tough, you know?" he recalled. "You know that something is going to eventually end and you think you're prepared for it, but you're not. It was very emotional. There was a lot of sadness after the game, but I said 'Keep your heads up high.' We had a great season, and 99.9% of the teams would have traded their season for our season, winning 25 games in a row." "I think," Morgan added, "it was very full circle." With youngest daughter Ava in fifth grade and Charlotte two years ahead — the latter already is considered the best seventh-grader in the league — Madison isn't going anywhere. Shondel, Gausman, Kildoo and Madi Morgan will return in 2025-26, the junior varsity went 21-1 this winter and each of the youth teams had only a few losses apiece, if any. The Hornets will be challenged in two years when they bump up to the SL National Conference to compete with tradition-rich Wadsworth, Medina, Stow, Hudson and Solon, among others, but they're ready to battle. Madison and a trusted group of coaches at the younger levels have the program clearly rolling in the right direction.They'll also never lose sight of the fact that high school sports are fun. Winning is simply the ice cream on top of the cake ... even when it's not your birthday. "It was definitely worth it," Madison said of dedicating a large chunk of his adult life to coaching basketball. "It's been a nine-year journey to build this program and put a team out there that everybody in the community can be proud of. I think we did that. "We've been consistent every year, won a couple league championships and a couple of district championships. It's been a lot of hard work, and I'm excited to keep this going and do it again with another group." Contact Albert Grindle at (330) 721-4043 or agrindle@medina-gazette.com.