“Ladies I am struggling with my words to tell you about the remainder of our season.” Without reading on, I knew what the rest of this message from my coach would say. The day prior, the NBA and Ivy League schools had discontinued their seasons. I walked the mile trek from Muir College to RIMAC, where my coaches and my teammates were gathering. It was pouring rain and I always thought I was strong enough to come to campus without an umbrella, but I did not feel strong enough this time. I was the first player to walk into my coach’s office. I was soaking wet, my shoes were squelching, and my coach looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “I’m so sorry, Wing. They cancelled it.”
As more girls showed up, we all sat together in a room, and for the most part did not speak. What was there to say? I knew that season was over, I knew there was no chance of me playing with my seniors again, and I knew that I was about to feel a hell of a lot of heartbreak. At the time, several teammates were in class, and I wished I could pull them into the room with us. I also knew I had to give a final presentation with Brittney, my teammate, in about an hour. However, here we were crying our eyes out, snot running everywhere, with our teammates trying to bring up the mood.