It was sadly ironic to learn this past week that Lana Robey had passed away and was laid to rest on Friday. The irony came that she passed away just as the start of March madness was beginning and the West Virginia boys state high school basketball tournament was initially set for next week until a postponement was announced.

 

It’s the boys’ basketball tournament that made me think so fondly of Lana Robey. It made me recall why I love the game and it made me recall a former Roosevelt-Wilson alum who loved her alma mater more than anyone may have ever loved her alma mater and then found some love for the school it consolidated into in Robert C. Byrd.

 

Few, if any, were as fiercely proud of being labeled with the tag of President, or Prexie, as Lana Robey. She carried a portion of that pride with her to Robert C. Byrd (although impossible to carry it all), particularly when her son Mike Robey was coaching there as an assistant to Billy Bennett’s boys’ team.

 

Let me assure you, no one wanted the Eagles to win more – get to that state tournament more – than Lana Robey when her son Mike was coaching. And of course, she wanted to beat Bridgeport as badly as anyone on the schedule and usually more because it was often the Indians and the Eagles battling late in the season for a shot to get to Charleston.

 

It should be noted that the rooting changed – even if her seat didn’t at the Byrd Cage gymnasium in Clarksburg didn’t – when her first grandson began playing at Bridgeport. It changed completely when her son Mike took over as the Indians coach and her second grandson was there for the ride.

 

Sure, she still wanted the Eagles to win. She could never brush away what she had loved for decades on the hardwoods. She just wasn’t going to have it happen at the expense of her grandsons – first Christopher and then Chase Robey – and her own son when they were donning the red and white.

 

Besides, there was nothing better than seeing Lana Robey at the state basketball tournament at the Charleston Civic Center. And for those of you thinking she wasn’t an all-time fan of the tournament, consider this.

 

For a period just short of 40 years, Lana Robey’s vacation was Charleston. Mike Robey told me back in 2016 that his mom replaced the trip to Myrtle Beach with the trip to Charleston and that meant bringing him and his brother Scott along for the trip and, often, her husband Larry. She would take her friend Phyllis Nichols with her many times and she also had absolutely no qualms going for the four-day tournament by herself.

 

The better part? She didn’t just go for nearly four decades. She had the same seats and tickets for nearly four decades. She had the same hotel spread that was like a Charleston-area hospitality room that I frequented on more than one occasion, most often with Scott as we looked to score a few free eats prior to a session of games.

 

The hotel room was part buffet and part dinner theatre. It usually involved her husband and her going back and forth with one another in comedic banter and it only ended when sleep arrived, or a session began requiring her to head back to the Civic Center.

 

Lana Robey didn’t miss a game. Mike Robey told me “she was in her element” inside that Civic Center and enjoyed talking basketball with everyone. He also said she had no problem letting those around her know she was “an expert” and knew exactly what was going on.

 

She didn’t make it to any state tournaments after 2013 – a year shy of what would have been her 40^th-straight appearance. It was just after getting back from the annual pilgrimage to Charleston, in April of that year, that her husband Larry passed away.

 

The passing of her husband along with her own health issues that progressed over the last several years ended her run. It ended a run of state tournament trips for arguably one of the most passionate basketball fans I’ve ever known. It ended a run of good times for anyone blessed to be in the presence of a woman who knew no petty rivalry between Bridgeport, Robert C. Byrd or anyone else was going to stop her from pulling for her family.

 

What it didn’t end was my memories of her. I often found myself talking with both Mike and Scott about their mother on occasion, asking how she was doing and laughing about stories from the past. It didn’t end my memories of her running countless craft shows to raise thousands of dollars for so many clubs, teams and organizations for a period of more than 40 years.

 

And it made me think of the time I gave her some gruff at the request of her son Scott at one of those craft shows and she conked me on the head with a water bottle. By the way, the water bottle was frozen, and I literally saw stars and had to gather myself so I wouldn’t be known as the guy who got knocked out by a 70-year-old woman at a craft show.

 

I laughed about that with her for several years afterwards. Unlike when it happened, I smile when I think about it today.

 

Maybe it was appropriate if she was going to pass it would be now; at the time of the year she loved most. Maybe it's only fair that if she can't be here on earth then no one is playing basketball. And if she did have a chance to watch, it would be great to know maybe she'd be squabbling with Larry from the best view possible and with a smile on her face.

 

While I use “maybe” in the previous paragraph, I’m certain of this. No one will ever fill her seat in Charleston the next time a state tournament game is played. And when it comes to an individual being the ultimate basketball fan, parent and grandma who gave back to those she cared about, no one can fill her shoes.

 

Rest in peace Lana. Your work here is complete.

 

Editor's Note: Top photo is of Lana Robey and her son and former Bridgeport boys' basketball Coach Mike Robey, while she's shown with her husband Larry and family, including her grandchildren, in the second photo. The bottom photo shows Lana and Larry having dinner in Nutter Fort. Photos courtesy of Mike Robey.