“Do You Believe Yet?” How the Hawks refused to lose.

The 2003 Republic lady Hawks were on one of the biggest underdogs in UP history, but coach Matt Davidson’s belief outlasted the odds.

Class D Regional Championship. Six seconds left. Double OT. Down 1.

Republic's Kathryn Holsworth, all 5'1'' of her, is collapsed on by three defenders.

She loses control of the ball and chases it down at half court. Any chance to set her feet now is gone.

Two seconds left.

Kathryn was never the shooter she believed herself to be. Eight years of basketball, and the confidence in her own shot had never quite caught up to the ability. A shot she admits was always mechanically off.

And now, in the biggest game of her career against the #2 team in the state, she's finally caught up with the ball. In this moment, almost ironically, mechanics were never going to save her anyway. What she needed was bigger than having the right form to shoot a basketball. Bigger than herself. In a moment like this, with 2 of those defenders a foot taller than you, a prayer is all you have.

If you asked her today, a prayer is probably how this needed to be.

But this story starts months before the biggest game in their school's history.

Early in the regular season, she sat in the locker room of that same opponent. She wasn't who she'd become yet, and neither was her team.

The Hawks were 4-1, their only loss coming a couple games earlier to Rapid River by 23 points. And now, an entirely different kind of challenge awaited them.

Carney-Nadeau.

The standard. One of the most celebrated small-school programs in Michigan history. State champions in 2001. State semifinalists in 2002. A dynasty in the late 80s/early 90s. This would be Republic's first time seeing the Wolves since a 50-27 regional final loss the year before.

Any belief that Republic could truly hang with Carney had taken a hit after the Rapid River loss. Truthfully, most of the girls weren't looking forward to seeing them.

There was Carney. There was Rapid River. And there was everyone else. Republic was everyone else. And while they may have been the best "everyone else" in the UP, it came with no consolation prize.

Only about half the parents made the 90-mile trip that night. If you had an excuse to skip a road game, this was the one.

The parents who did make the drive weren't exactly buzzing with belief. They looked nervous. Quiet. Maybe even scared. Because, like the players, they knew what was waiting.

Kathryn remembers walking out of the locker room intimidated, feeling like her team didn't belong. Republic-Michigamme didn't have a player taller than 5-foot-8. Six Hawks were 5-foot-3 or shorter. Their average height was just 5-foot-4.

Across from them stood Carney-Nadeau's front line: 6-foot-2 junior Carly Benson, a Division I recruit, and 6-foot-1 Senior Rachel Folcik, another promising college recruit. Both considered two of the better players in the entire state. The Wolves had six players listed at 5-foot-6 or taller.

And if Carney-Nadeau already felt larger than life, the scene that night didn't exactly make them feel smaller. Two scouts from the University of Michigan were in the gym watching Benson and Folcik.

Republic wasn't just walking into a road game. They were walking into someone else's showcase.

The Hawks carried themselves the way teams often do against elite opponents. Some joked around, trying to lighten the mood. Others carried the same nervous energy as the parents in the stands. Part of you hoped you'd grown enough to compete. The other part was just hoping not to get embarrassed.

Kathryn knew that kind of posture. Her dad had been a boxer. Sometimes you enter a fight hoping to win. Sometimes you're just trying to keep your gloves up. That was the belief in Republic.

They lost the game 67-22 that night. And after a beating like that, it's easy to start looking for closure early — just so the ending hurts a little less when it finally comes.

There was one person who didn't accept that.

Head coach Matt Davidson.

Davidson wasn't your typical coach. He wasn't in love with hyperbolic speeches or painting "us against the world" narratives. He didn't remind his players they were underdogs. He didn't waste his words. What he did was harder. And riskier too.

Belief is easy when the evidence agrees with you.

Davidson believed before the evidence showed up.

With every fiber of his being, Davidson saw the finished product before they ever did. Even after a second loss to Carney — this one a 71-28 beating at home — nothing about Davidson changed.

The losses humiliated Republic. Davidson treated them like research.

The Hawks lost both of their regular season games to Carney Nadeau by a combined 88 points.

In an article published after the regional final, Davidson made it clear those losses were more about cracking the code than his team's inability to compete.

"I packed the zone. I wanted to find out who wouldn't shoot and who couldn't shoot. You have to find a chink somewhere," Davidson told the Detroit Free Press.

And eventually, a plan.

Carney-Nadeau wanted to run, pressure, and turn its size into easy points around the rim. Through two regular-season meetings, that size had been overwhelming. Benson averaged 19 points and 10 rebounds against Republic. Folcik averaged 24 and 10 over the two blowout wins. Republic scored 22 and 28 points respectively in those losses. Carney-Nadeau shot over 50% in both games.

They weren't just tall. They were scoring and rebounding machines.

No strategy could make the Hawks any taller. Davidson's plan wasn't built around attacking the Wolves. It was built around making every one of their strengths a little harder to access. Not because it guaranteed victory. Because it gave Republic a chance to survive long enough for his belief to spread.

Playing the long game as a coach — compromising short-term success for future results — doesn't feel inspiring in the moment, especially for a team that can't always get a read on their coach.

Before one of those regular-season games against Carney-Nadeau — the kind of night that ended in a slaughter — Kathryn remembered Davidson's pregame message feeling less like a call to battle and more like an acceptance of what was coming. At the time, she thought that kind of speech belonged after a loss, not before one. Only later did it make sense.

Davidson wasn't trying to convince them they were invincible. He was teaching them how to stay composed when they weren't.

Kathryn still isn't sure where the strategy ended and the belief began. "He watched a ton of game film to come up with a strategy to beat them," Kathryn said. "I don't know if he was that confident it'd work, or if he truly believed in us."

And for the longest time — almost until time ran out — that was the dynamic of this team: a coach whose belief never wavered, and players who couldn't fully understand where it came from.

The Hawks were good — a 16-4 regular season doesn't happen by accident. Their problem was that one of the biggest roadblocks in the state was standing in their own conference.

Republic won their district and moved into regionals, where 19-3 Ewen-Trout Creek waited in the semifinal. This was no game they could overlook. The Panthers were good, and plenty capable of ending their season before Carney got the chance.

Kathryn Holsworth, who only averaged 9.9 PPG, was the hero that sent them to the Regional Championship, and a re-match with #2 in the state, Carney Nadeau.

Kathryn settled in the locker room of Michigan Tech University, where the regional semifinal was to be played. She intentionally chose the locker of a player she admired. On the side of it was a bible verse — Philippians 4:13: "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." And while Davidson was still selling his own belief to a team that hadn't fully bought in yet, Kathryn's source had been decided long before.

"I didn't think God would help us win our game just because I asked him to," Holsworth said. "I knew if he wanted to use me to make us win, he could, because I had faith and was willing."

So with 54 seconds left and the game tied, Kathryn had an opportunity to put her faith in action. She had two options: dish it off to her cousin Amber, the team's leading scorer, or take it herself.

She chose the latter.

Kathryn milked the clock down to 10 seconds, made her move, and lifted a soft runner from the corner.

It dropped. 36-34.

The Hawks were headed back to the regional championship.

At 19-4, in the midst of their best season in school history, Republic had outgrown almost every doubt that had followed them. Almost.

Carney-Nadeau was waiting for part III.

On the ride to Houghton, Kathryn was locked in. With her CD player blaring, she had drowned out everything else, except Coach Davidson, who smiled at her — a quiet understanding between the two of how prepared she was for this game.

Davidson had an aura about him. He wasn't nervous. He wasn't tense. He seemed certain of himself. Practice was run quietly and carefully. His team hadn't mirrored his quiet confidence yet, holding preparation in one hand while wrestling with their coach's certainty in the other. Kathryn remembers sincerely wondering if the belief was genuine, or if it was closure about their season possibly ending that night in Houghton.

She got her answer before practice even started. Davidson pulled her aside and told her she'd make the winning basket that night. Not might. Would.

On a scouting report, the word "believe" was written five times in succession.

"Do you believe yet? Because I do."

Coach Davidson’s scouting reports continued to reiterate he believed and his team belonged, despite two lobsided regular season defeats to Carney Nadeau.

The championship was hours away. Most still didn't.

Unlike their regular-season game in Carney, Kathryn made a point not to look at her opponent — their size, their determination, the confidence that could make any other team feel small. Instead, she focused on herself and what she could do to win the game.

Some of her teammates went out to the gym. She stayed back with her cousin and best friend, Amber Holsworth. They talked about being seniors, the finality of what this night could bring, growing up together playing basketball. Because while you're prepared for a game like this, the inevitability still looms as a conversation.

While the Hawks fans packed the stands, many were just counting down to the main event. Westwood and St. Ignace were set to follow — the top two Class C teams in the state, a rare UP versus UP matchup where the winner could walk away a state champion. That was the game people came for.

Republic was just the opener.

Jason Laxo, a '99 Republic grad cheering on his Hawks, told a buddy attending the next game not to bother showing up early. It would likely be a blowout. Unless you were a fan of Republic or Carney, the first game was a bathroom break — a chance to find your seat, catch up with friends, maybe grab a snack before the real show started.

Republic was already used to being in someone else's showcase. It happened when Michigan scouts came to watch Carney. It was happening again before tip-off.

Nobody disagreed.

And with three minutes left in the first half, it looked like those fans in the stands would have reasons not to watch. Republic trailed 21-7. Carly Benson and Rachel Folcik had accounted for every Carney point.

By halftime, Republic still trailed 21-11. Davidson's plan was working. The Hawks had slowed the game down. Benson had three fouls. And still, they were down double digits.

Their season was 16 minutes from ending.

"The halftime locker room huddle was surreal," Senior Laura Warlinremembered. "I don't think any of us will ever forget the look in Coach Davidson's eyes as he asked us, 'Do you believe yet?'"

At the end of the third quarter, it was 23-15. "Do you believe yet?" Every timeout. Every huddle. "Do you believe yet?"

"Those words echoed in every single one of our minds the whole time." Junior Kaylin Parkinson said.

A quick bucket by Lindsey Anttila made it 23-17.

The question wasn't rhetorical anymore. It was the thing Davidson had been trying to explain through every loss, every doubt, every moment when belief looked foolish.

"Refuse to lose" became the mantra. Not pretty words. A promise to a coach who had never stopped believing.

And now the roles had reversed. Carney was playing tense. Benson picked up her fourth foul. Carney coach Paul Polfus switched his defensive scheme to protect his star. Anttila and Amber Holsworth were attacking the basket with confidence.

Republic cut it to four. Then two. With 2.9 seconds remaining, Amber Holsworth stood at the free throw line trailing 26-28.

While Kathryn had been the hero of the tournament thus far, it was her cousin and best friend who would need to come through. Both were cut from the same mold — faith first, fiercely competitive, raised by brothers who had grown up the same way. And both understood this tournament, this incredible run they were on, was bigger than them.

Amber hit both free throws.

What started as a 21-7 deficit ended with a 21-7 run.

In overtime, Carly Benson had a chance to end the game off a missed Hawks free throw. The girl Davidson spent months studying, obsessed with how to conquer, now had a chance to break the belief he was clinging onto. Her shot bounced off the rim.

Double OT.

The teams traded buckets. Wolves took the lead, 37-36. Hawks took it back, 38-37. Wolves scored again. 39-38.

Two seconds left.

From 15 feet out, Kathryn threw up a prayer.

And it was answered.

Republic coach Matt Davidson celebrates as his Lady Hawks pull off the biggest upset in U.P. girls basketball history, 40-39, over #2 state ranked Carney Nadeau. Wolves Rachel Folcik consoles Carly Benson.

Carly Benson fell to the floor. Rachel Folcik knelt beside her. On the other end, Kathryn was surrounded. Someone grabbed her and told her she'd remember this moment for the rest of her life. She was crying. She already knew.

But of everything going on in that moment, perhaps the most astute observation came from someone who didn't play a single second of that game. Sophomore Andria Parkinson watched Davidson's demeanor from the bench

"If you watch him on video after the game, he didn't even flinch. He's just calmly walking the sideline as though he was thinking — yep, that's how I knew this game would end."

Andria is the perfect example of Coach Davidson's impact. She didn't play a single minute. And when the team gathered twenty years later to write about that season, she had more to say about him than anyone else.

"I've told the story of that game hundreds of times," Andria said. "To my husband, to my kids. My kids tease me all the time — 'Mom, you didn't even play.' They'll never understand how much that game meant to me. To be on that team, in every huddle, every timeout, to be coached by Coach Davidson that night — was enough."

The story of the 2003 Hawks probably isn't remembered the same way if Kathryn gets to set her feet. If she's handed a clean look at the buzzer, maybe it still wins the game. But it doesn't become this.

For a player who had spent years wrestling with belief, maybe the shot had to look impossible. Three defenders. No rhythm, no time, no clean setup.

Just a prayer from someone who had spent the season borrowing faith until her own finally arrived.

Four tournament games. Thirteen points in the biggest game. Philippians 4:13. For Kathryn, the connections came full circle.

Coach Davidson passed away in 2015. Six years later, the Republic girls basketball program played its final season. The belief he built outlasted both.

In movies, especially the ones about underdogs, belief is made to look easy.

A coach believes.

The team follows.

The music rises.

Davidson took the harder path.

Because if Republic loses that regional final by 40, maybe his belief is remembered differently. Maybe it becomes optimism. Maybe it becomes kindness. Maybe it becomes a coach trying to make his players feel bigger than the scoreboard said they were.

Nobody would have blamed him for that. His players probably still would have loved him for it.

But that night, belief became something else.

It became preparation.

It became proof.

It became the thing that made everyone else wonder if Davidson had seen the ending before the rest of them knew where to look.

He had.

The Republic Hawks reunited in 2023 to celebrate the 20th anniversary of their ‘03 Regional Championship team. The original 2003 Hawks are featured at the bottom of the photo.

"I think if we played Carney-Nadeau 100 times, we'd probably beat them once," Davidson said after the game. "Why waste it during the regular season?"