I wasn’t there when Coach told the team the news. I left early because I had a different practice to attend. Luckily, I went to say goodbye to coach before I left. I remember the smile melting off his face and the confusion that came over me. I cocked my head to the side like a confused animal. He sighed and very quietly said

“We made it into States”

At first I remained frozen in disbelief and then I felt my mouth drop as a squeal forced its way up through my throat and out of my mouth. I started jumping around and screaming until he had to frantically tell me to be quiet. He said he was going to tell everyone at practice and I glanced into the gym and beamed at them warming up obliviously.

Throughout the weeks to pass we practiced harder than we ever had before and when States rolled around the corner, we were determined.

We sat in the locker room together some of us tugging our shoes on or pulling our new blue and gold jerseys over our heads. We heard a knock on the door and I got up to check and see who it was. I pulled the door open to reveal Coach’s excited but focused face. We lined the benches attached to the dull blue lockers and with our heads bowed and hands folded as Coach prayed for success and protection. We nodded our heads quietly to every word he uttered. I stared down at my bright blue and gray shoes and slowly raised my head to face my team. Everyone’s body language was stern and afraid. I was so focused on winning the game ahead I didn’t hear Coach asking me if I wanted to say anything to my team until he was nearly yelling. My throat was tight and my mouth was dry but I knew I had to say something. After I gave possibly the most generic pep talk ever we stood up and and slowly filtered out of the tight locker room. As we stretched we kept glancing at our opponents: St. Paul, Frankenlust.  The buzzer went off to inform us that we had one minute left to warm up we jogged to our bench. I stood in the middle of our gold and blue ocean as we cheered before the game. Four other girls and I sat on the bench together as the rest of our team formed a tunnel for us. We whispered to each other as the announcer said the starters for the other team. Our heads snapped up as we were yanked out of our quiet conversation and into the game ahead.

“And the starters-”
My two forwards were the first to stand up and we patted them on the back as they ran out through the tunnel to shake hands with the various other strangers. They called my name last,

“And at point guard, number twenty, Michaela!”

I stood up slowly and ran through the tunnel as the girls collapsed together behind me like a crashing wave. I was in a daze as I shook the other coach’s hand and mumbled “good luck”.

I could hear the entire ocean in my ears. I watched the jump go up in slow motion, my center tipped it back to me, as the ball hit my hands a rush went through me. For the entire time, the score was tight. It was in the last minutes of the game when things started to fall apart.

I remember the girl sloppily driving into the paint and slamming into me like a train. But it wasn’t the hit that hurt, two people fell onto my ankle at different angles. I didn’t realize how much it hurt at first; I screamed mainly because of frustration. The referee didn’t stop the game until another player tripped over my immobile corpse. My dad was on the court in a second closely followed by my coach. He helped me up and carried me to our bench. Everyone tried to convince me to leave and get it checked out but I wasn’t going to abandon ship now. Not in the last thirty seconds of a state tournament game. Coach made our next best player the point guard even though she was a forward. The other team had scored on my injury and they were up by one.

Worthless sweat ran down my back and face and into my eyes. As I sat across the span of three uncomfortable metal chairs with the trainer working on my ankle I watched the ball get stolen on an unlucky pass. Through my tear blurred eyes I watched the other team get their last lucky lay up a few seconds before the last buzzer. We had lost.

I sat quietly and shamefully on the bench as the other team came over to high five me on the bench. I tried my best to smile but it was hopeless. I limped out on the shoulders of my other able bodied teammates into the hall and through the tunnel our fans had made us. All I felt was disappointment. My ankle was terribly sprained and after all of our work we had lost, it seemed like everything would just get worse. The entire weekend had been a landslide of defeat and all I could do was cry.