Not this time. Despite Julia all but neutralizing Galt’s best player – no goals and no assists – the bounces definitely did NOT go our way.

 

 

No, not this time. This time the minutes ticked by without us really being able to scare our opponents. This time the 2^nd half, and our season, just kind of melted away. We had run out of bodies. We had run out of gas. As the players limped off the field, I looked around and felt sad, lamenting what could’ve been if we’d been luckier. I felt sorry for myself. And sorry for the players.

 

[interlude]

 

Well, that’s how I felt three weeks ago. What was I thinking? So whiny. So immature.

 

Because with time, my perspective has, of course, changed. With time to reflect, I remember how hard the players worked on that huge field to make up for their injured teammates. I remember Isabelle trying to win the game all by herself on every rush, despite her sore legs. I remember Annie being pressed into service on left wing and playing the best non-goalie game of her life. I remember Allison and Charlotte and Player Of The Game Nya refusing to give an inch on defence, no matter the odds.

 

Only one team gets to win every year. Which means every other team loses. So if seasons were only ever judged by championships, sports would be a pretty depressing undertaking.

 

No, seasons are judged by things much more important than trophies. Like effort. Potential reached. Obstacles overcome. Memories made. Friendships forged.

 

It has been a pleasure, ladies. Thank you for all you put into this season. I thoroughly enjoyed it! 😊