HIGH SCHOOL

Tough times at home don't deter Dobson basketball players

Tyler Killian
azcentral sports
Dobson's Kayla Clark (left) and Mesa Mountain View's Shauna Bribiescas battle for a loose ball during the MLK Basketball Classic at Wells Fargo Arena on January 19, 2015.
  • Only two of Dobson's 10 seniors have had more stable home lives.
  • The players give each other, and get from the coaches, support and compassion.
  • All of Dobson's seniors have committed to play at the next level.

For Mesa Dobson's girls basketball players, life on the court has been pretty good.

Dobson improved to 21-1 following Monday's victory over Mesa Mountain View in the MLK Classic — its record the best in Division I and one Chandler Hamilton buzzer beater away from being spotless. Dobson could easily challenge the 30-3 mark it posted last season, when it reached the state semifinals.

Life off the court? That's a different story. And not usually a fun one.

Guard Alexis Todd was born in California, where she said her father was in trouble with the law ("Our last name was known out there — not in a good way," she said) throughout her childhood, and when he was home he would frequently get in loud disagreements with her mother.

The family — which includes Todd's older brother of two years — moved to Arizona when Todd was 1. She now lives with her mom and said she hasn't had contact with her dad in four years.

"It just wasn't healthy," she said of the relationship. "We wanted a father figure in our life, and we didn't have that."

Todd found peace on the basketball court, and began to thrive. This year the 5-foot-9 senior became Dobson's leading scorer at 17.9 points per game, and received scholarship offers from Eastern Arizona and Pima College.

Her story may take some by surprise, but not her teammates. Many knew exactly where she was coming from.

Dobson's roster is unusually senior loaded. Of the 12 players on the team, 10 are in their final high school season. And of those 10 seniors, Dobson coach Tyler Dumas said only two have lived what might be considered "normal" lives — with two parents and a steady situation at home.

Dyesha Stahley's parents split up before she was born, and she said her mother had problems after separating from Stahley's stepfather, leaving her to live with her grandma in Mesa.

The 5-foot-6 Stahley is Dobson's starting point guard and its second-leading scorer, and has signed with Cal Poly.

Nakayla Griffin never really knew her father growing up and said she was often physically abused by two men close to her family, before both men exited the picture.

Griffin, a 5-7 guard, plans to study neuroscience at Arizona or another university, though basketball is still an option.

In fact, Dumas said all 10 of his seniors have received offers to play at the next level, whether it be a junior college or a Division I program.

That's a remarkable achievement for any team, let alone one with so many tumultuous back stories.

But as difficult as their experiences have been, Dobson's players have used them to grow stronger — both individually and collectively.

"We're becoming more of a family by knowing more about each other," Stahley said. "Most of our team has single parents. We all come from tough (backgrounds), so it's cool that we all get to help each other grow through that."

Dumas and his staff — assistant Chad Taylor and strength coach Janice Rodrigue — deserve plenty of credit for keeping Dobson's players on the right path.

It's not uncommon for Dumas or another coach to provide food, car rides or even temporary homes for their players that are less well off, and Dumas works tirelessly getting them on the radar of college recruiters.

That kind of support and compassion isn't lost on the girls, who care for each other like sisters.

"They'll notice somebody that doesn't have a pair of shoes — workout shoes, team shoes, whatever," Dumas said. "The kids will all get together, pitch in 10 bucks and go buy them shoes. That's happened I don't know how many times."

They've been through more than most their age, and many still face uncertain futures. So it's no wonder why they're making every minute count when they're together in the gym.

"It's like a sanctuary when we come in here," Todd said. "You let everything go and just play ball and enjoy it."