As the teams line up for handshakes, I cut a glance to Ainsley.
She sits with her team, on the ground against the half-fence in front of the bleachers. Sunglasses in place, jaw tight, her team clapping for the JV girls though their faces look anything but happy.
A loss stings, no matter when it happens in the season. I know the feeling well.
But losing is an opportunity to learn.
Shreeya drags her feet behind the rest of the team as they huddle around me and Quinn.
“Quinn, why don’t you start us off.” I gesture to her, and her eyes widen.
“Uh...” She pauses, then turns to the girls. “I think you won today because of your communication on that field. I heard you, calling to each other, making sure you were able to set up each play, and you really had each other’s backs.”
“Absolutely. You played well, and you were a team.” I glance at my freshman attacker. “Shreeya, I know you’re in your head right now, beating yourself up. I can hear it from here. But mistakes are going to happen. Do you know what you did wrong in there?”
She nods, glassy eyes flicking up to mine. “I didn’t communicate to Jayden before I passed it.”
“And what did you do right?”
Her eyebrows jump. “Uhm, I...”
We sit in silence for a few beats before Lydia, a sophomore on defense, chimes in. “You took a shot at the goal.”
Shreeya’s eyes narrow. “But I didn’t score.”
“But you took the shot,” I say. “You gave your team a chance to score. You didn’t hesitate. So, the goalie blocked it; big deal. You put in effort, and that’s what counts. Don’t only focus on the mistakes you make, ladies. It’s important to look at what needs work, sure, but don’t forget to celebrate the little wins too.”
Shreeya smiles, and my chest swells with pride. This is how I want my team feeling after a game, win or lose. Taking it in stride, the good and the bad. Learning. Growing. And most of all, having a damn good time.
I stick my hand in the middle of the huddle. “JV wins on three!”
The team piles their hands on top of each other, and we all shout, “JV wins!”
Parents descend from the bleachers while the kids collect their belongings.
“For those of you who might not know this,” I say, facing everyone, “Coach Ainsley and I used to play varsity way back when we were in high school.” I step closer to Ainsley, and she lifts her sunglasses on top of her head. “It was tradition for the losing team to treat the winning team to pizza. Now, I’m not telling you how to spend your money, but I think it’d be nice to keep the tradition alive. Both teams are welcome to join me at River Rock.”
The girls all run to their parents, followed by a chorus of, “Can I go?”
Ainsley purses her lips as she gazes up at me. “You’re still trying to get pizza out of me, all these years later.”
“Hey, you owe me from all the money I spent on your wins back then.”
She rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of amusement shining there. “I’ll go grab us some tables. If we’re keeping traditions alive then the winning coach cleans up the field.”
I grin. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“Well, well, well. Look at this.”
Ainsley rolls her eyes. “Hi, Nicky.”
Nicky’s parents own the pizzeria we’ve been coming to since we were kids. I grin as I slap my palm against his. “Good to see you, man.”
He gives my hand a firm shake as he glances between the two of us. “I can’t believe you two are sitting at the same table after all these years.”
“Neither can I.” Ainsley’s eyes flick to mine, so much history staring back at me.
“You still betting on who’s going to win your games?” he asks, chuckling as he says it.
