Girls basketball: Richardson’s leadership as lone senior has Talawanda surging

Talawanda’s Grace Richardson puts up a shot against Ross during a recent game earlier this season. NOAH PITZER / CONTRIBUTED

Talawanda’s Grace Richardson puts up a shot against Ross during a recent game earlier this season. NOAH PITZER / CONTRIBUTED

OXFORD — The Talawanda High School girls basketball team’s locker room is loud the way young teams are loud.

And in the middle of it all sits the only voice that carries a lot of the weight.

Grace Richardson doesn’t talk the most. She doesn’t need to.

Her example does the speaking.

On a roster filled almost entirely with underclassmen, Richardson is the lone senior — the final thread from a class that once promised numbers and now offers only her.

“She’s our heart and soul,” Talawanda coach Zach Stapleton said. “We go as Grace goes.

“When your senior leader flies around the court and gives that kind of effort in this day and age — when it’s hard to get kids to really engage — that makes everyone better.”

Talawanda’s resurgence this winter has been noted throughout Southwest Ohio. The Brave are 17-4 — went unbeaten at 12-0 in non-conference play — and playing with a confidence that didn’t exist the last couple of seasons.

Freshmen and sophomores have supplied scoring punch, but the identity belongs to the senior who refused to leave.

Richardson’s class was once loaded. Then life happened — interests changed, other sports called and some simply stepped away.

By the start of this season, Richardson was the only one left.

“There were a couple years that were a little bit of a struggle,” said Talawanda athletic director Jake Richardson, Grace’s oldest brother. “You just kind of see them fall off. But Grace stuck with it. She got through it, and now she’s reaping the benefits of a very talented young team.”

That loyalty has become the program’s emotional core.

Stapleton sees it in small moments — Richardson consulting a teammate after a turnover or sprinting to help a coach collect loose balls after practice.

“Leader in the locker room, always positive,” Stapleton said. “She’s exactly what we want to coach. That’s why she’s our captain.”

Richardson plays the way she lives — direct, a little fearless, occasionally too aggressive for the comfort of referees. Foul trouble follows her like a shadow, but Stapleton has never considered dimming the light.

“I told her, I’d rather have you playing defense than not playing defense,” Stapleton said before laughing. “Do we do some things from the technical standpoint we don’t love? Yeah. But that kind of motor — any good coach knows you get a bunch of kids with motors and you can do some things with it.”

The Richardson Plan of Nine

To understand why Grace Richardson never quit, you have to understand the house that shaped her.

The Richardsons are a small roster in themselves — nine children, one long dinner table, a family schedule that required zone defense and patience.

Jake Richardson is 40. Grace, the youngest, turns 18 in April. Between them stretches 22 years, several siblings who played their own seasons and enough family stories to fill a gym.

“It’s just a cool experience,” Jake said. “Being the oldest of nine kids, watching several sisters have a lot of success in basketball, and getting to see Grace do it — it’s a blast.”

The age gap has created a relationship more mentor than peer.

“I had my siblings right below me that you’re real close with,” Jake said. “Grace is so far apart from being at the bottom of the Richardson plan of nine that it’s a little different type of relationship. More of a true big-brother thing — not the honorary one that picks on the ones right below you like I did.”

Grace doesn’t live in Jake’s office, and Jake doesn’t hover over her season. Advice arrives in small, ordinary packages — a hallway conversation about managing emotions, a text after a tough loss or a quick word about what officials see versus what players feel.

After Talawanda’s win over Badin on Monday, the two loitered near the Brave bench talking about fouls and perspective.

“Just remember it’s not what you think,” Jake told her. “It’s the eyes of the guys in stripes that matter.”

He smiled retelling it.

“But that’s her personality, too,” Jake said. “She’s going to go play her game and do her thing. You’ve got to appreciate that. You’d rather have them a little too aggressive than too timid.”

Jake has watched enough seasons to recognize what this one means — not just to a program, but to a family that measures time in schedules.

“Good for her. Good for the group,” Jake said. “She stuck with it.”

Talawanda’s Grace Richardson looks for a passing lane during a recent game earlier this season. NOAH PITZER / CONTRIBUTED

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The example they follow

On game nights, Talawanda’s youthful roster looks for Richardson the way younger siblings search for the oldest in a crowded room.

When she sprints the floor in transition, they run harder.

When she dives for a loose ball, they hit the hardwood next.

Stapleton has coached many of them since elementary school. None arrived with the authority Richardson earned by simply staying.

“I’ve coached some of these girls since they were this tall,” Stapleton said. “But Grace set the tone. They don’t flinch because she doesn’t flinch.”

Richardson fought through foul trouble and mismatches against Badin, guarding bigger players and pushing pace whenever Talawanda needed oxygen.

Stapleton called her physicality “a big deal for us,” even when it costs a whistle.

“She’s so quick and athletic,” Stapleton said. “Kind of comes with the territory.”

Talawanda shot poorly that night, just 1-for-12 from 3, but survived on defense and resolve — traits Stapleton ties directly to his senior.

“Grace is everything,” the coach said. “We would not be even close to where we are right now without her.”

The Brave have grown around her —freshmen learning how to win, sophomores discovering their voices — a program remembering what confidence feels like. Richardson has become the bridge between the lean years and whatever comes next.

Stapleton knows the calendar is shrinking.

In a few weeks there will be a senior night with one bouquet or one framed jersey and one name announced at center court. The other youngsters will line up beside her, not fully understanding yet how much she carried.

“Can’t say enough about her,” Stapleton said. “Awesome kid. Awesome family.”

For Jake, the season has been a rare blending of his two worlds — athletic director and big brother, administrator and fan.

“I’m the oldest. She’s the youngest,” he said. “Getting to watch her do this, after everything she stuck through, it’s pretty special.”

Talawanda’s story this winter will include scores and tournaments and whatever March decides to deliver. But this season will be remembered for something simpler.

One senior stayed.

And a program followed her lead.

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