What I Miss Most: The Process and the Chance
Softball player will miss the work to have the final at-bat
Haley Donaldson
In their own words, Colorado State student-athletes share what they miss as the coronavirus pandemic has put life on hold globally
"The NCAA just announced sports are canceled."
The look on coach Jen Fisher’s face froze us in time the moment she announced the news.
It was an inevitable heartbreak, especially because we were only two days away from starting the best time of the year. The heart of the season. The part of the season that we busted all year to compete and reap its successes.
Instead, we were told we needed to go home and be with our families during this trying time. How are we supposed to go from the most diligent, gruesome grind to absolute rest and solitude? How are we supposed to go from a consistent, demanding routine to a haltering stop of uncertainty? What about all of our hard work? What about all of the pulled muscles, the sore arms, the tired eyes, the deeply calloused hands, the blisters, the achy feet? The team and I have dealt with immeasurable amount of rain delays, rescheduled double headers, canceled series, lost bags and forgotten uniforms. But a cancelled season?
Nobody was prepared.
As a team, we are taught that with suffering and sacrifice, you will find greatness. This is imprinted in the forefront of our mentality. The longest minutes of our lives are felt when we are desperately wanting the pain of conditioning to be over. The longest minutes of our lives are felt when our alarm buzzes off early in the morning after a long night trying to finish assignments. The longest hours of our lives are spent slamming down weights on a half-empty stomach before the world wakes up. We grind day in and day out for the name on the front of our jerseys and the love we have for the game. We grind for every run on the scoreboard and every win on the schedule until we are named champions.
Those doctors, nurses, emergency responders, medical staff and others who are fighting the coronavirus are still out on the field.
Champions are made in the late hours and early mornings. Champions are the last ones to leave when the field lights shut off and the scoreboard goes out. Those doctors, nurses, emergency responders, medical staff and others who are fighting the coronavirus are still out on the field. Those who are fearlessly fighting for our country’s borders, despite aching and longing to protect their own families are still choosing to not give up. The field lights have gone out. The scoreboard hasn’t been on in weeks. We are all caught in a bad game. An error-ridden, caught-looking strikeout, trip-over-your-own-feet kind of game. Where things are going so badly, it doesn’t even feel real. It’s in games and times like this that heroes are made. The entire world is under a rain delay. But there are heroes still out there fighting for us all. That is where we find greatness. They are the real champions.
Prayers to everyone, near and far. Prayers for the elderly, the immunocompromised, the ones with chronic health conditions, the ones working long shifts selflessly. Prayers to our very own Malea Martinez -- the heart and soul of CSU softball -- our fans and their families. Prayers to those who are alone and scared, those who are struggling to make it through this season, those who need hope.
Yes, our sport is on hold… But I would rather believe that our sports and our lives are delayed like a weather delay, not canceled. My teammates and I are greatly devoted and willing to sacrifice our season for the greater good of our people, our fans and our communities. CSU softball has given us seniors an incredible opportunity that people search for their entire lives. In midst of this troubling storm, you will find CSU softball still tightly bonded together -- just online and apart, but never separated.