The Agony.

So, field hockey is over.  Because my team, which started off the season without a loss, at least for a few weeks, was defeated last night in the first round of playoffs.  We ended the season 11-6-2, which is certainly respectable, especially since we only won four games last year.  But it's my first afternoon off in a long time, and I'd rather be getting ready for practice than sitting on the couch.  I promised myself an end-of-season nap, and I'd rather be putting my whistle around my neck.  I'll get over it eventually, but today, I'm still re-living last night and groaning, remembering the first goal that went in at the end of the first half, when time had run out and we played out a penalty corner, and then the second one, the one that went in at the end of the game, in the last stinking minute.

I'm already having post-season emptiness;  it's this feeling that there's somewhere else I'm supposed to be and other people I'm supposed to be spending time with.  It's because the girls that I coached this year were a group that I'll remember for a long time.  As a teacher, I know that amazing classes only come along once in while.  (I'm looking at you, AP American Studies, 2000-2001!)  Teams are like that, too.  This group of athletes was talented, hard-working, enthusiastic, conscientious, kind, and funny.  At the start of pre-season, when I realized that our numbers were low and our prospects looked rough, I told my family and friends that I didn't mind because the girls were so nice. Such good kids, I kept saying.  And my two brother-in-laws, who also coach the Hawks, said they'd rather have a team of jerks who win than good kids who don't have a chance.

But this year, I had both.  They scored, they won, they succeeded.  They were fun, and fun to coach.  Today the sun is out and the sky is blue.  It's a perfect day to play field hockey, and clearly, I'm going to have a hard time letting this fall go.