I’ve worked through much of my trauma in therapy over the years. But all of the old feelings come rushing back whenever a game is about to start. In my head, I know my father isn’t here. I know I’m not in high school anymore. But my body doesn’t understand logic. It holds memories deep inside, spiraling around my blood with my DNA. As much as I loved playinglacrosse, it was the source of so much anxiety. The pressure to perform, to get noticed, to avoid disappointing my father...it weighed on me like a ton of bricks making it impossible to escape.
As my stomach settles, I wipe my lips with the back of my hand. “Sorry you had to see that.”
Ainsley scoffs. “Please, don’t apologize for that.” She hands me a cold water bottle. “Here. Drink.”
I fill my mouth swish the water around before spitting it onto the pavement. Then I swallow a few sips. “Thank you. You didn’t have to stay behind with me.”
“I know.” She gives me a light shove. “Come on, puke breath. Let’s go win some games.”
“Go, Shreeya, go!”
Shreeya cuts across the field like a missile, dodging the defenders with confidence.
“Take it all the way down!” Quinn yells.
If Shreeya attempts to pass, it could cause a turnover. We’re tied at the end of the third quarter, so it’s best she shoots for the goal instead.
The girls riding the bench along with the entire varsity team are on their feet, running up the sideline with Shreeya to cheer her on. I know she’s nervous to take control, but the adrenaline will override it.
“You’ve got this, Shreeya,” Ainsley calls. “Shoot it!”
She has an opening, but it’s closing fast. She needs to make the play.Now.
She shoots as the defenders descend on her. My heart pounds and I hold my breath.
Then goalie’s net rustles in the top left corner. The buzzer pierces through the air, followed by the announcer’s voice over the speaker. “Goal, Breakwater.”
Shreeya’s first goal.
I pump my fist overhead. “Yes!”
Her teammates jump on her, and pride swells in my chest. Quinn slaps her palm against mine, a proud smile on her face as well.
Before I know what’s happening, Ainsley slams into me and wraps her arms around my neck. “She did it.”
I stumble backward as I laugh, steadying the both of us. “Yeah, she did.”
It feels good to be on the same team, so to speak. To celebrate together. Maybe Ainsley will start to realize that this isn’t a competition. That JV and varsity should work together.
That she and I can drop the baggage we’ve carried, and start over.
My team ends up losing the game in the final quarter, but we were only down one point.
“With the way you all played today, I’m not concerned with points.” I glance around the group, looking into each pair of eyes. “Take this loss as a lesson: The most important thing is that you gave it your best, and left it all on the field. Be proud of the plays you made and the shots you took.”
We pile our hands as I shout, “Ospreys on three. One, two, three, Ospreys!”
After everyone packs up, we head back to the bus. Though we lost, varsity won their first game tonight and the girls are excited, both teams chatting and intermixing.
I nudge Ainsley’s shoulder. “Nice game, Coach.”
She bites back a smile. “Thanks. Hopefully the win will keep parents off my back for a while.”
“Forget them.” I glance behind us at a couple of dads chatting on the way to the parking lot. “Do you enjoy coaching?”
Her chin jerks back. “Of course, I do.”
“Then that’s what matters. Success is measured by the joy you feel doing what you love.”
