Opinions

Senior year went out with a pop

Growing through St. Joe’s athletics

It’s the last time lacing up the cleats. The last time finding turf beads in your bed when you wake up. The last opportunity to make sure absolutely every bead of sweat is left on that turf, every drop of blood that can be shed is and all tears are saved until that final whistle is blown.

Senior year is here, and the days of being a student athlete are limited. The past four years have led up to this point and for most, the final season is the one to go out with a bang. But, for me, it went out with a pop.

I had checked everything off on the checklist. My body was in peak shape, both the fittest and fastest it has ever been. The experience of playing for the previous three years proved to be a source of confidence heading in to this final one. My lacrosse skills were sharp and continuously improving with every practice and extra wall ball session.

Yet, it only took one twist. One wrong movement to cause the shift that popped the tendon whose very name sends shivers down any athlete’s spine. Anterior cruciate ligament, or more commonly known as the ACL.

Two days following the injury it was confirmed; “non-functioning ACL in the left knee.” My ears heard nothing following that, and my eyes welled with tears. I held it together almost as long as any human that tries to resist petting a puppy strutting down the street. Any talk of surgery options was lost to me as my head was drowning in thoughts. It wasn’t the fact that this was my third time tearing my left ACL that left me distraught.

Although difficult to swallow, it wasn’t even the fact that this was the end of my college career as a player that kept my head in my hands. It was the thought that in less than a month, my whole family was making the trek across the globe to come and watch me play in my final game on Sweeney Field.

I had envisioned Senior Day to be a day where I could show just how much I appreciate all the support I have received from everyone over my college career. A day to compete and play hard, to make my family proud and to show them that the 1,460 days spent 16,552 kilometers (that’s 10,285 miles for you imperial system folk) apart had been worth it.

With the whole conference portion of the season left, it was hard to grieve the end of my playing career at St. Joe’s while still being a voice with and for the team. My experience over the past four years at St. Joe’s has been invaluable as it has given me the very tools that I need to be able to overcome the grief of this current obstacle and any that come my way in the future.

It has given me the opportunity to participate in weekly service programs where I have met a number of amazingly talented individuals who, for a range of different reasons, have their mobility restricted to a wheelchair. The time I spent forming relationships and learning from them not only taught me that I am very fortunate to have the ability to run, jump and play the sport that I love, but that talent has no restrictions. In any circumstance, there is always a way to overcome adversity and let talent shine through.

It has given me the opportunity to meet professors who have instilled in me a passion for my future career. As athletes, we are so focused on the game, on winning and on maintaining peak physical performance that it is sometimes hard to see life outside of those white lines. However, I can say that since coming to St. Joe’s I am now able to see a life outside of a sweat suit and in a career that celebrates my hunger and drive for success.

It has given me the opportunity to expand my family. Bound by sweat rather than blood, I have 36 new sisters. We have been forever bonded by the freshman 15, attractive sock tans and Karaoke: Road Edition.

All that we have been through, both individually and as a team, we have been each other’s support system, and that runs deeper and further than any graduation day countdown.

It has given me the opportunity to be coached by some of the most dedicated and knowledgeable people I know. All I have ever wanted to do was play lacrosse at the highest level possible, and while my experience under the women’s lacrosse coaching staff has turned me into a better player, it has also instilled within me compassion, belief and optimism that I will take with me into every future endeavor.

And lastly, it has given me the opportunity to realize the immense gratitude I have for my family. After every game, without fail, I would find a message on my phone. Each one went about the same way, “Watched the game. Played well. Pick your knees up when you run, you’ll go faster.” After four years I still hadn’t memorized the time difference, forcing me to check on the world clock.

At 3 a.m. my parents would groggily make the obligatory walk to the lounge room to watch me run up and down a field for 60 minutes.

After the devastating blow of my injury, I felt like I had failed. That I had let myself and the team down just when it was needed the most.

It was my parents who grounded me with their words. They told me to be happy with what I have achieved so far, to use my knowledge to help the team and be hopeful for the future, for without hope what’s the point? And that they were so proud of the person I had become.

Every experience I have had at St. Joe’s has made me into the person I am today. Every run test, every exam and every team bus trip. Every time I pulled on that jersey and every time my arms were freckled with bruises. Every time I ended my day with a five-hour study session in the library. Every time a squeeze was sent down the line during the “Star-Spangled Banner.”

Every experience and memory as a student athlete at St. Joe’s has given me the strength to overcome this new obstacle, but also any that dare to challenge me in the future.

About the author

Rebecca Lane