We never got to truly have our own home match
For a school without a home court to call its own, every match last season was an act of quiet exile — Whitmire Community School's tennis team competed entirely on borrowed ground while their campus courts sat unusable. Now, construction has begun on four new courts in Whitmire, South Carolina, a development that speaks to something older than athletics: the human need for a place that belongs to you. What is being built is not merely infrastructure, but the foundation of belonging — for a team that already proved it could endure without one.
- A tennis program spent an entire season without a single home match, forced to travel for every competition because their own courts had deteriorated beyond use.
- The absence of a home created a quiet but persistent wound — players and coaches competed hard while carrying the burden of having no place to call their own.
- School leadership responded by greenlighting a four-court facility, a project more than a year in the making that signals institutional investment in a program that refused to quit.
- The new courts are designed not just for varsity play but as a launchpad for summer camps and a youth feeder system meant to grow the sport across surrounding communities.
- The team's resilience has already built a culture of confidence — the courts won't create that spirit, but they will finally give it somewhere to land.
Whitmire Community School's tennis team spent last season without a home. Every match was played on borrowed courts in borrowed towns, because the campus facilities had deteriorated beyond use. The team kept showing up anyway — competing hard, just somewhere else.
Now construction crews are breaking ground on four new courts, the school's first true home facility. For coach Bethany Crumpton, herself a Whitmire alumna and former player, the moment is deeply personal. She described last season's reality plainly: the courts were unusable, the decision to play entirely away was unavoidable, and the absence of a home match weighed on everyone. Seeing the project finally come to life, she said, is "just amazing."
Principal Allison Stribble sees the courts as more than a venue upgrade. With four surfaces available, the school plans to expand its summer tennis camps and open them to surrounding communities — building a deliberate pipeline of younger players who might one day join the high school team. It's infrastructure designed to recruit.
Senior Riley Garner captures the spirit of what the new courts represent: visibility, credibility, and an invitation. She believes other students will see the investment and want to be part of something growing. The confidence behind that belief didn't come from new facilities — it was forged during a season of competing without them. The courts will simply give that spirit a place to finally call home.
Whitmire Community School's tennis team spent last season chasing home. Every match was played somewhere else—on borrowed courts, in borrowed towns, with no place that belonged to them. The existing courts on campus had deteriorated beyond use, leaving the program with no choice but to pack up and travel for every competition.
Now, construction crews are clearing ground for what the school is calling its first true home courts. The project represents more than just new infrastructure. For Bethany Crumpton, the tennis coach, it marks the end of a frustrating chapter. "It was just really bad conditions," she said, describing the decision to abandon the campus courts entirely. "We came to the crossroads to where we were going to have to play all of our matches away this past season. So we never got to truly have our own home match. But that was very difficult, just not really having a place to call home."
The irony is sharp: a school's athletic program without a home. Yet the team kept competing anyway, kept showing up, kept playing—just somewhere else. That resilience caught the attention of school leadership, who began discussing a renovation more than a year ago. What emerged is a four-court facility that will transform not just where matches happen, but what the program can offer.
Crumpton, herself an alumna of Whitmire Community School and a former tennis player there, sees the project as personal vindication. "We're super, super excited that the school district has invested in us and our community here at Whitmire and that we have our first-ever truly home courts here at Whitmire Community School," she said. "It's super special for me as well. And just being able to see this come to fruition is just amazing."
Principal Allison Stribble frames the courts as a catalyst for growth beyond the varsity team. With four courts instead of the deteriorated surfaces of the past, the school can expand its summer tennis camps and extend them to surrounding communities. The goal is deliberate: build a feeder program so younger students learn the sport and eventually feed into the high school team. It's infrastructure as recruitment.
Senior Riley Garner, a current player, understands the signal the new courts will send. "I think people are gonna see that and see that we're getting this new stuff, and they're gonna say, well, you know, they're a pretty successful team, and we might wanna be a part of that," she said. "And if they do, I really hope they join because our tennis program is amazing." There's confidence in that statement, the kind that comes from competing hard despite the odds. The new courts won't create that spirit—it's already there. But they will give it a place to land.
Citas Notables
We never got to truly have our own home match. But that was very difficult, just not really having a place to call home.— Bethany Crumpton, tennis coach
We want to do some camps...now we would have four courts, we could expand those and offer them to other surrounding areas and build that feeder program.— Allison Stribble, principal
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did it take so long for the school to build these courts? Was it just money?
Money was part of it, but also visibility. When your courts are unusable, the problem becomes invisible to people who might fund a solution. You have to make the case that it's worth fixing.
The coach said they played every match away last season. How does a team even function like that?
You adapt. You travel. You lose the advantage of home, but you also build something—a kind of toughness, maybe. The team kept competing. That's what made the investment in new courts feel earned.
The principal mentioned feeder programs. What does that actually mean?
It means you're thinking generationally. Four courts means you can run camps for younger kids in the area. Those kids learn tennis, get good, and when they reach high school, they already know the program exists. You're not starting from zero.
Do you think the new courts will actually attract more players?
Almost certainly. Facilities matter. They signal that the school takes the program seriously. And Riley Garner's right—people want to join something that's already successful. The courts just make that success visible.
What's the real story here—is it about tennis?
It's about a program that refused to disappear even when the school couldn't give it a home. Now the school is finally saying: we see you, we believe in you. The courts are just the proof.