Katrina Blalock: The Mother Behind The Champion (Huey Blalock)

People often ask me what it was like raising Huey (Blalock).

Most assume the answer has something to do with basketball—the championships, the packed gyms, the wins, and all of the excitement that came with watching him play for Rabun County.

Those memories are certainly special, but when I look back, that’s not what I remember first.

I remember alarm clocks. I remember packing lunches before work, making sure homework was finished, washing uniforms late at night, running from work to practice, grabbing dinner wherever we could, and somehow finding enough energy to do it all again the next day.

As another school year begins, I know so many parents across Rabun County are stepping back into that same routine. You’re buying school supplies, paying for sports equipment, figuring out schedules, juggling work, trying to be present for your family, and wondering how you’re going to fit everything into twenty-four hours.

I’ve been there.

And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that parenting isn’t about getting everything perfect.

It’s about showing up.

Growing up in Rabun County gave Huey something I could never have provided on my own. He was surrounded by teachers who cared, coaches who challenged him, teammates who became lifelong friends, and a community that celebrated every child’s success—not just their own.

That support matters.

As parents, we do everything we can at home, but communities like ours help raise our children too.

Basketball became a huge part of our lives. There were practices, workouts, travel, games, and long nights on the road. There were incredible victories that our family will never forget, including an unforgettable championship season. Watching Huey and his teammates accomplish what they did together was something truly special because I knew how much work had happened when no one else was watching.

The trophies are wonderful. The memories will last forever. But they aren’t what makes me proud. I’m proud of the young man he’s become.

I’ve always believed that sports are about much more than winning games. They teach discipline, humility, accountability, teamwork, and how to handle both success and disappointment. Those lessons don’t end when the final buzzer sounds. They stay with our children for the rest of their lives.

Now, as I watch Huey prepare for college, I realize that this is the moment every parent is quietly preparing for from the day their child walks into kindergarten.

You spend years teaching them how to make good decisions. How to treat people. How to work hard. How to get back up after they fall. Then one day, you have to trust that you’ve done enough.

That’s both exciting and heartbreaking.

If I could encourage parents beginning another school year, I’d simply say this:

Give yourself grace. Some days you’ll forget to sign a permission slip. Dinner might come from a drive-thru between practices. Laundry may pile up. You’ll probably miss a meeting or two.

Your house won’t always be spotless. That’s okay.

Your children won’t remember whether every shirt was perfectly folded or every meal was homemade.

They’ll remember that you were there.

They’ll remember you sitting in the stands after a long day at work.

They’ll remember the rides home after games, the conversations about life, and the hugs after difficult days. Those are the moments that shape them.

As parents, we spend so much time hoping our children become successful adults that we sometimes forget success isn’t measured by banners hanging in a gymnasium.

It’s measured by character. It’s measured by kindness. It’s measured by integrity.

Watching Huey graduate from Rabun County High School and begin the next chapter of his life reminds me that championships eventually become memories.

But the values we teach our children become their foundation.

So, to every parent packing backpacks, buying school supplies, paying registration fees, cheering from the sidelines, and wondering if you’re doing enough...

You are. Keep showing up.

One day, you’ll look back and realize that the little moments—the ordinary mornings, the rushed afternoons, the late-night conversations, and the endless drives—were actually the moments that mattered most.

And that will always be the greatest victory of all.