When Brandon Padget stands in the gym and calls out "two times," every student stops, claps twice, and focuses. It's a small moment—a simple technique borrowed from baseball practice—but it captures something larger happening in Cairo athletics. Young people are learning to listen, to focus, and to be part of something that demands their best.

Athletics teaches what classrooms sometimes cannot: how to communicate under pressure, show up when you don't feel like it, and lift teammates when they struggle. These aren't just sports skills—they're life skills. In Cairo, where Athletic Director Brandon Padget and Assistant Athletic Director Tanner Calvert are rebuilding the athletic program, these lessons have never mattered more.

"Athletics can be the first real time in a kid's life that they understand they're good at something," Padget explains. "Not every kid learns by reading a book or hearing a lecture. Some learn by doing, by moving, by being part of a team. When they connect with a coach who believes in them, everything changes."

For Calvert, a Cairo native who played baseball and basketball for the Pilots, this work is personal. "I've known most of these kids since they were born," he says. "Their parents were my classmates. I wish I could have a body camera to show parents how special their kids are—how they come to our office when they're struggling, how they light up when someone believes in them."

The athletic directors' office has become that rare thing in a school: a safe space where students can catch their breath, grab a Gatorade, work through a problem, and return to class ready to try again. It's these small sanctuaries that build trust, and trust builds teams.

The results are already visible. Junior high basketball players fill the gym daily for open practice and weight training. Baseball, absent since 2019, has returned with 18 high school players last year and growing junior high interest. At a recent softball game at St. Mary's Park—the first played there in over a decade—every seat filled with neighbors, families, and longtime residents watching from porches.

"I was brought to tears," Calvert admits. "People in lawn chairs, families on porches, bleachers packed. A school board member said it perfectly: 'We may have lost on the scoreboard, but we won as a community.'"

This isn't about chasing past glory. Cairo's athletic leadership understands that success isn't measured only in championships. It's measured in the senior who learns to pass instead of shoot because his team needs a playmaker. It's in the student who discovers that showing up to practice every day—even when it's hard—builds something unshakeable inside them.

Many Cairo students face challenging circumstances, often raised by grandparents doing their best with limited resources. Coaches are stepping into that gap, not as saviors but as consistent adults who expect effort, reward growth, and create structure. When Padget uses his "two times" call in the hallway, students respond immediately—not from fear but from respect for someone who cares enough to teach them focus.

The vision extends beyond games. Plans are underway for a booster club, connecting alumni who remember what Cairo athletics meant to them. There's talk of hosting tournaments, starting intramural sports for students who aren't ready for varsity competition, even exploring esports. Old uniforms might be cleaned and sold to raise funds, turning nostalgia into investment.

"Good leaders train their replacements," Padget says, explaining why he focuses on building Calvert's experience. "Tanner understands these kids and this community in ways I never could. My job is to help him grow this program, because Cairo is his calling."

Perhaps most importantly, Cairo students are beginning to wear Pilots gear again—something that had become rare. Pride isn't manufactured; it grows from belonging to something that matters. When students see their coaches at every practice, their athletic directors working alongside them, and their community filling the stands, they understand they're valued.

Some say the obstacle is the way—that challenges build the strength to overcome them. For Cairo's young people, athletics is becoming that way. Not because it promises scholarships or championships, but because it teaches them to show up, work together, and discover capabilities they didn't know they had.

In every practice whistle, every focused clap, every packed bleacher, Cairo is writing a new story. Not one that erases the past or makes grand promises, but one that says simply: these young people matter, their futures matter, and this community will stand behind them, two claps at a time.