2015 Fordham Softball – Week 18 / A Fitting Ending

Tuesday, May 19, 2015 – NCAA Tournament / Harrisonburg, Virginia

My dad and me take in one final moment together at the field following our loss to N.C. State.

My dad and I take in one final moment together at the field following our loss to N.C. State.

Sometimes you end up in places you’re not supposed to be. Places that once seemed distant, even impossible to get to. Places that transcend your understanding of the possible.

For nearly four months, I’ve taken you to some of these places in my life, through my words and videos, during this roller coaster ride that has been my experience as an NCAA softball player this season. You’ve gotten a look at my on-field struggles and triumphs, team victories and defeats, and nearly everything in between. But, what you don’t know is the most important part of the story, the part of the story that almost no one knows. What you don’t know is why this game and the places it has taken me have meant so much in the real life and times of this NCAA softball player.

I thought about my innermost realities as my dad held me while I cried atop the bleachers at Veterans Memorial Park on the campus of James Madison University on Sunday afternoon. We were the last people left in the park following our elimination in the regional championship game to North Carolina State, via a walk-off home run in the bottom of the seventh inning. A devastating blow to our Cinderella run at the Harrisonburg regional, which saw us knock-out the host team and 12th-ranked James Madison Dukes just a few hours earlier.

While the loss was certainly painful, I cried for reasons more multifaceted and deep-seated than just the angst of defeat. I cried tears of sadness for the conclusion of my time in uniform, tears of relief for the end of what had been the most personally challenging three weeks of my playing career, and mostly, tears of joy for the miracle that softball had been in my and my dad’s life over the past 16 years. It was as if every emotion I had recently been feeling had risen to the surface and was being released from the depths of my being. It was, perhaps, the most cathartic moment I had ever experienced.

What most people don’t know is that my dad and I weren’t supposed to be sitting atop those bleachers on Sunday afternoon; not given the hand we were dealt nearly two decades ago. After a divorce from my mom and some ugly events that followed had complicated our lives when I was young, my dad became a single parent who was left to raise a young daughter all by himself. Needless to say, life during those days was often difficult, as there was even a time when we did not have a place to live.

But, even in our hardest times, the one thing we always had, besides each other and our faith in God, was softball. It became our escape from everything that was wrong, and our vehicle of hope through which everything could once again become right. And, right everything did eventually become in our lives, as my dad was able to selflessly and independently put the pieces of our lives back together and provide me with everything I could have ever needed or wanted throughout my childhood, both on and off the field.

And, for as bad as things once were for us, that’s how great they became through softball. Our means of escape had become our shared passion, and had carried us to places and heights that had previously seemed unimaginable. From our magical journey to the championship game of the Little League World Series in Portland, Oregon, to a first-ever state championship in high school, and the amazing feat of three-straight conference championships and trips to the NCAA tournament at Fordham, softball has given my dad and me more joy than we ever could have dreamed of 16-years ago, when the game was simply a source of therapy from our pain.

Aside from all of the victories and amazing moments we experienced between the white lines, our 16-year softball journey did not come without its fair-share of difficulties. Right up until the very end, together we experienced the agony of defeat, the frustration of slumps, and the struggle to make sense of the inexplicable things that happen in our sport. But, similar to our love for one another, our love for the game never wavered. It remained strong and unremitting, and even propelled us through some of our toughest tests and disappointments along the way.

So, as I cried like a baby in my dad’s arms on Sunday afternoon, I felt overcome by gratitude for all that we had experienced together, the places we had been, and the love that we had shared because of this glorious game.

And, while Sunday completed the final chapter of my life-changing softball story, its conclusion was reminiscent of its beginning; with only my dad and me alongside a ball field, just like it had been 16 years ago. No matter what the scoreboard read during those final moments of my softball career, for me, there could not have been a more perfect ending.

2015 Fordham Softball – Week 17 / Championship Synergy

Monday, May 11, 2015 – Atlantic 10 Tournament / Amherst, Massachusetts

(Courtesy of Tom Wasiczko)

(Courtesy of Tom Wasiczko)

I remember studying Aristotle’s concept of synergy in my Philosophical Ethics class during my sophomore year. From a desk in Fordham’s hallowed Keating Hall, I learned about this two thousand year old idea stating that the whole of something is greater than the sum of its parts. A model following the notion that when individual figures are combined within an arithmetic operation, the figure that follows the equal sign is always superior in value than the ones that precede it. Maybe Aristotle was a sportsman back in his day, because his profound thoughts reflect the ultimate metaphor for teamwork, which was on display for us this past week in the Atlantic 10 Conference tournament.

Following a regular season that saw our team frequently competing as individual figures rather than a cohesive whole, there were enough ups and downs to make even roller coaster enthusiasts queasy. But, we Rams finally discovered the synergy that had been lacking for many of the previous fifty games, and fortunately, it was found in the nick of time.

Just a handful of weeks ago, however, our erratic play had caused us to question whether or not we would even qualify for the conference tournament. We began to hear the whispers of outsiders and naysayers, and had intermittently fallen into the trap of doubting our collective ability to capture a third straight championship. But, similar to how the trees seem barren one day and in full bloom the next, something suddenly and inexplicably began to blossom for us just recently between the white lines.

Entering the conference tournament as the third seed, we cruised through the six-team bracket during our stay in Amherst, Massachusetts. Like a well-oiled machine, we won four-straight games, including victories over second-seeded St. Louis and top-seeded Dayton in the championship game, even though both teams had combined to beat us four times during the regular season. Against the odds and predictions, we became the first three-seed in our conference’s history to hoist the trophy on championship Saturday.

On paper, though, we weren’t supposed to win the tournament this year. SLU had walked-off on us twice during our first conference series of the season in March in devastating, come-from-behind fashion, and Dayton had mercied us on our home field during Easter weekend. Even though we had displayed dominance against every other team in the conference, there was such a great disparity that existed between the top three squads in the Atlantic 10 and the rest of the teams this year. Thus, despite our impressive 17-5 conference record, we were still viewed as the third best team in the A10. On paper, that is.

But, like we had been reminding ourselves since the last time we played and lost to SLU and Dayton, championships aren’t won in the chilly days of March and April; they are won in the heat of May. And, no matter how bumpy the ride may have felt earlier this season, the synergy that ensued last week was certainly worth the wait.

That’s the great thing about sports, though. No matter what the prognosticators predict, the critics critique, or the numbers suggest, the one ineffable characteristic about competition is its human element. And with that, comes a whole slew of possibilities. Like the synergy that a team can kick into high-gear at the most opportune of times, and go from performing as individuals to competing as a unified whole that is most definitely greater than the sum of its parts. The most beautiful of sights on a softball diamond, if you ask me.

So, fresh off the heels of our seemingly improbable Atlantic 10 championship, here’s to hoping that our synergy persists in the upcoming NCAA Regional at James Madison University, even if for just a few more days.

2015 Fordham Softball – Week 16 / The Ordinary Giving Way to the Extraordinary

Monday, May 4, 2015 – George Mason University / Fairfax, Virginia

(Courtesy of Tom Wasiczko)

(Courtesy of Tom Wasiczko)

Familiar sights, familiar sounds, familiar feelings. Backpacks in tote, Nike sneakers trudging toward a bus that awaits like a chariot for its passengers, and a feeling of anticipation like a pungent smell lingers in the air. We’ve done this countless times before, but this time, it’s a little bit different. This time, we’re playing for a championship and the right to do this all again next week.

For the past thirteen weeks of this season, and countless weeks before that, we’ve been playing for these next four days at the University of Massachusetts in the Atlantic 10 Conference tournament. Countless mornings passed in the weight room, myriad grueling practices experienced through changing seasons, months spent living out of duffle bags, and enough miles accrued to cross the continental U.S. several times over, all for just four days in May and a chance to hoist that massive, silver trophy on Saturday afternoon.

That’s the great blessing and curse of these next four days, though. No matter what has occurred leading up to this point, for better or worse, teams across the country have the chance to start anew and either right the wrongs of these last thirteen weeks and advance to the Promised Land of the NCAA tournament, or get their hearts broken by the unpredictable nature of this game, and have the season come to an end. A great dichotomy of sorts, one could say.

For us Fordham Rams, we are as battle-tested and experienced as they come, and we know what’s at stake this week: our third straight Atlantic 10 Conference championship and trip to the NCAA tournament, or the end of our season and the completion of six softball careers, including my own.

As we head to UMass with the third seed in a tournament comprised of six qualifying teams, we are fully cognizant of the battles that lie ahead of us this week. While we have been humbled by this roller coaster ride of a season we have endured, we possess a quiet confidence in both our experiences in championship settings and in the way we have been playing lately.

So, when we step on the field at UMass this week, it will all be familiar. The sights, sounds, and feelings of a conference tournament with nearly everything to gain and so much to lose. But, the great beauty of playing college softball in May is that no matter how familiar things may seem at this point in the season, the ordinary always gives way to the extraordinary when a championship is on the line. That alone is an exciting thought.

No matter what the end result is this weekend, I know extraordinary things are in store for the next four days on Sortino Field at UMass, and on fields just like it across the country. After all, next to Christmas, this is the most wonderful time of year.

2015 Fordham Softball – Week 15 / A Beautiful Day at Bahoshy

Monday, April 27, 2015 – George Washington University / Bronx, New York

My dad and I embrace during Saturday's senior day ceremony in the Bronx. (Courtesy of Tom Wasiczko)

My dad and I embrace during Saturday’s senior day ceremony in the Bronx. (Courtesy of Tom Wasiczko)

I don’t think it’ll truly feel real until it’s actually over. Until the very last out is recorded, wherever and whenever that may be, and I walk off the field for the final time. But, on Saturday, the end felt as real and impending as it ever has. 

Last year, after this very weekend, I wrote about the bittersweet nature of senior day and lamented about the loss of my friends and teammates to graduation. I mentioned the array of emotions I felt while watching Elise, Tina, Gabby, and Bri make the trek across Bahoshy Field with their parents on senior day, as I cried for the end of their softball careers and the approaching end of my own. I imagined my senior day as being an emotional roller coaster ride, resulting in tears and sadness, with more “bitter” than “sweet” feelings, as I attempted to hold on for dear life to the game that has been my constant for 16 years. 

On Saturday, however, senior day was nothing like what I had imagined it would be. Sure, a few tears were shed from my eyes while I held onto my dad’s arm and watched my friends and their parents get honored before us. But, I wasn’t a ball of emotions like I had been a year before and had expected to be when my name was finally called. Rather, I felt poised and at peace, as a genuine sense of happiness filled me on this day of celebration.

And what a beautiful day of celebration it was, as quality time was spent with friends, teammates, and our extended Fordham Softball family. The added bonus of the day was the dominance we Rams displayed on the field, as we walked away from senior day two wins richer, both by way of the 5-inning mercy-rule against George Washington University. 

The greatest source of my happiness on Saturday, however, was in sharing the entire experience with my dad, who has made every great thing in my life possible and has been by my side through each step of my 16-year softball and 22-year life journey. Together, we’ve defied the odds and made it through some incredible obstacles to get to Saturday’s celebration. Being able to share in that victory alone superseded anything great that happened on the field that day. 

While I felt happy, honored, and truly proud to be a Ram on Saturday, what I didn’t feel was sadness about the inevitable and approaching end of my softball career like I thought I would. Though part of me wishes I could don the maroon and white forever, another part of me knows that all good things must eventually come to an end. And when that day arrives in the upcoming weeks, the time will be right. Until then, I plan on making all of my remaining days in a Fordham uniform beautiful ones.

2015 Fordham Softball – Week 14 / Surviving the Ups and Downs of a Crazy Game

Friday, April 17, 2015 – St. Bonaventure University / Olean, New York

(Courtesy of Tom  Wasiczko)

(Courtesy of Tom Wasiczko)

We play a crazy game. One in which a team can get clobbered one game and then walk off the field as winners two hours later against the same team in stunning, come-from-behind fashion. One that allows a streaking squad with a losing record to sneak into a conference tournament as the dark horse and have an opportunity to advance to the NCAA’s big dance. One that sees a player struggling at the plate for a few games, only to wake up one day and inexplicably catch fire. Ours is the craziest of games, one could argue.   

And on this team, in this conference, at this juncture in the season, the craziness is quite often on full display. More than in each of my previous three seasons, the league is wide open this year and the conference championship is pretty much any team’s for the taking. Besides maybe one or two teams at the bottom of the standings, there isn’t much of a disparity between the squads in the Atlantic 10 this season, making things equally as exciting and unknown for the upcoming conference tournament in a few weeks. 

In the midst of all the unpredictability, however, it’s often hard for teams and players to get on a roll, and harder yet, to stay rolling. The inevitable ups and downs of a long season can be disheartening, and oftentimes derailing, but they’re all just part of the process, and ultimately, what you sign up for as a college softball player. 

A midweek conference tilt against St. Bonaventure this past week produced lopsided results similar to the ones I alluded to above. Following a seven-hour bus ride up to Olean, New York, we Rams eased through game one of Wednesday’s doubleheader and won 10-2, while extending our winning streak to five games. Game two, however, summed up the baffling nature of our sport quite perfectly. As the heavily favored team in the contest, we sat on a 1-0 lead for most of the quickly moving game, despite outhitting our opponents and driving multiple balls to the warning track through six innings. The home half of the sixth saw the wheels start to fall off for us, however, and thus, that hot, foreshadowing feeling of impending disaster on the softball diamond began to set in. Sure enough, the upstart Bonnies rode the momentum all the way to a walk-off victory in the bottom of the seventh inning, once again showing that the favored team doesn’t always win in softball. 

The loss to St. Bonaventure was certainly frustrating, as all losses are, but I think we quickly came to terms with it and realized that it is just the nature of the unpredictable game we play. It’s important to just keep on keeping on, especially at this critical point in the season when each game matters for tournament seeding.

In order to survive the ups and downs of college softball, and not become derailed by them, sometimes you just have to toss things up to the unpredictable nature of our sport. In this game, you have to roll with the punches and know that it is only a matter of time before the craziness swings back into your favor again. And ultimately, it is in trusting that your team will bounce back and be the one walking off the field as the inexplicable winner that will get you through the thicket. 

2015 Fordham Softball – Week 13 / Showing Up For Battle and Winning the Fight

Friday, April 10, 2015 – University of Massachusetts / Amherst, Massachusetts

Our 2014 A10 championship team got honored at Yankee Stadium  this week. A surreal experience for Yankees fans and non-fans alike. (Courtesy of Tom Wasiczko)

Our 2014 A10 championship team got honored at Yankee Stadium this week. A surreal experience for Yankees fans and non-fans alike. (Courtesy of Tom Wasiczko)

Last week, for the first time during softball season since I started this blog at the beginning of 2014, I failed to produce a written entry that either previewed or recapped what my teammates and I were experiencing along our season’s journey. My decision not to write last week wasn’t because I had too much homework or because I got preoccupied with other things in my life. Rather, it was because not even the words that I often look to for solace and escape could save me from what I was feeling following an Easter weekend that saw us drop two of our three games against Dayton in harrowing fashion. 

During what has been an up-and-down season, things looked as promising as they have all year for us before we took the field at Fordham last Saturday. Following a convincing two-game sweep over LaSalle the weekend before, and a solid victory over Dayton on Friday in the first game of our three-game series, none of us expected to drop back-to-back games and get outscored 13-1 on our home field on the day before Easter.

Going into the games on Saturday, we had expected to win and protect our house. But, from the time the umpire signaled for the first pitch to be thrown, we inexplicably looked and played like shells of ourselves. We played embarrassing softball on our home field that day, and fourteen innings later, the scores of both games certainly reflected the collective lull that we could not snap out of in the third base dugout at Bahoshy Field. 

Upon reflection, however, it is clear that our first mistake of that day was that, by and large, we came to the field expecting to simply show up and win. We fell into the trap of thinking things would be easy on Saturday just because we had played well on Friday and won our first game of the series handily. Nonetheless, we were quickly reminded by the Flyers that we need to do a whole lot more than just show up to win in this league.

Sometimes, I think we tend to forget that winning is no easy feat. We learned last weekend, though, that just because it has happened in the past, doesn’t mean that it is guaranteed to happen in the present or the future. Plus, as the two-time defending conference champions, everyone in the A10 circles our name on their calendars. And this year, not only is a proverbial target on our backs, but it is also the size of a billboard and has flashing lights on it. We have too often failed to remember this.

But, thanks to Dayton, we won’t forget it going forward. Throughout this past week since our Dayton series, it has been reiterated to us by our coaches that we absolutely have to come to the field ready for battle if we even have a chance at winning. Or else, any team in this league is capable of exploiting our complacency and taking it to us. Trust me, we’ve learned this lesson the hard way.

Now, as I sit in my hotel room awaiting the start of our series against UMass tomorrow, I find solace in the words that evaded me last weekend. I know that we have learned from our letup against Dayton, and now have a fresh understanding that a target exists on our backs. It’s up to us to earn the victories we desire and protect the championship that is ours because absolutely nothing will be given to us.

Starting this weekend, it’s time to not only show up for battle, but also to win the fight. 

 

2015 Fordham Softball – Week 11 / Being Knocked Off the Horse and Getting Back On

Saturday, March 28, 2015 – La Salle University / Bronx, New York

After a disappointing series in St. Louis, we pulled together and got back on the horse against La Salle this weekend.

After a disappointing series in St. Louis, we pulled together and got back on the horse with a convincing sweep of La Salle this weekend. (Courtesy of Tom Wasiczko)

If you ask most people on our team to rank the worst softball experience of their careers, I bet the events of last weekend in St. Louis would crack the top three. For me, however, last weekend took the cake as the single-worst softball experience I’ve ever endured.

Everyone with a vested interest in Atlantic 10 Softball finally got what they had been waiting ten months for: a rematch of last year’s conference championship game between the two best teams in the A10. And the weekend slate did not disappoint, as Fordham vs. SLU generated three extremely eventful games to boot.

Much to the surprise and disgust of our tall-walking, chest-puffing, two-time defending champion-selves, we dropped two out of our three contests against the Billikens. However, these were not just any two losses in a sport that by the season’s end, even teams in the Top 25 have nearly twenty defeats. These were two of the most difficult-to-swallow losses one who has ever played or been involved with softball could imagine.

We got walked-off on in the bottom of the seventh inning, twice. Twice. In the same weekend. By the same team. Even worse, we held comfortable leads in both games before the bottom fell out from underneath us, twice.

While the first loss was certainly a stinger, as a walk-off home run purged the St. Louis players and fans of the celebratory screams that had been dormant within them since last May, it was the second loss that evoked some of the most poignant and incensed feelings I’ve ever experienced between the white lines.

In the ultimate act of retribution, St. Louis matched each run we embarrassed them with in our 11-0 championship game steamroll last season. They beat us 11-10 in the series’ heartbreaking finale. Unlike 10 months ago, they did not falter or collapse under the weight our 8-run cushion, but rather, appeared to be fueled by it. It was as if their plan had been to give us familiar feelings of security, which we had previously felt against them on May 10, 2014, by allowing us to momentarily possess a massive lead. This time, however, they ripped away our sense of security in the most painful of ways, with their late-inning dramatics. They had knocked us off of our high horse.

While I respected what they had done, as any lover of the sport would, I absolutely hated it. For nearly two days, sleep evaded me, sickness was experienced, and a seemingly permanent pit was planted inside my stomach. Even 48 hours later, I just could not shake that second loss.

But, as my father learned from former New York Yankees manager Joe Torre and has reminded me countless times throughout my softball career, “a great thing about this game is that you get to wake up and play it again.” While the college softball schedule isn’t exactly like that of Major League Baseball’s 162-game grind, it is similar. On Tuesday, when I got the chance to play again, the pain of the weekend had been lessened, and by Wednesday, when we played and won our home-opener against Iona, the anguish had almost completely subsided.

While the agony of defeat experienced in St. Louis was the worst I’ve ever endured, it forced my teammates and me to learn more than we ever would have without it. It’s funny, because when you win, you never look at the things you did wrong, but when you lose, especially in heartbreaking fashion, you’re reminded of every grueling detail and forced to realize your own shortcomings. No doubt, a blessing in disguise.

The losses forced us to collectively do the little things better this week; study film, break down mechanics, look within ourselves and question who we are and what we need to do in order to become who we want to be. Plain and simple, we got back to basics after our disastrous weekend in St. Louis.

As we play our second conference series this weekend at home against La Salle, we are renewed. Humbled, sure, but instilled with a new sense of hunger. One that serves as a reminder of what was done to us last weekend, how it made us feel, and what we must do to get back on top.

And, as a softball veteran with countless experiences on both the winning and losing side of things, I know it is much better to lose like we did to SLU in March, than to have it happen when it matters most in May.

Now, it’s time to get back on that horse.

2015 Fordham Softball – Week 10 / Out of the Darkness and Into the Light

Friday, March 20, 2015 – St. Louis University / St. Louis, Missouri

In just a matter of minutes, the view from our Southwest Airlines flight went from daunting to clear as day, serving as a metaphor for the trajectory of our season.

In just a matter of minutes, the view from our Southwest Airlines flight went from daunting to clear as day, serving as a metaphor for the trajectory of our season.

I was nervous as we waited for takeoff. With heavy snow pounding the runway’s pavement and gusting winds causing our Southwest Airlines airplane to tremor, feelings of anxiety and vulnerability were conjuring up inside of me. This was the worst weather we had experienced on the runway in my four years at Fordham, and I thought for sure that we were destined for an about-face and a short trip back to the safety of the airport. But, our pilot had other ideas and decided to brave the elements. A mistake, I thought, for sure.

As the several tons of steel we occupied accelerated along the runway, I braced my armrest in fear of what I could not control; feeling small and powerless amid something as big and daunting as an airplane and its irrevocable takeoff. The plane was going to take flight, no matter what the intensity of my trepidation was. I had to just trust that our plane and its operators were prepared to lead us through the storm, and that ultimately, God was in control of it all.

When the wheels left the ground, the airplane emerged from the pavement with uncertainty, struggling initially to find its balance and straighten its path for the first few seconds of its ascendance. As we loomed higher and higher above the East River with each passing moment, we abruptly became captivated by a sea of grey. The very storm clouds that were the sources of my anxiety had engulfed us in their rage and shaded any comforting colors and sights of onward progress from view. It was as though we were moving at rapid speeds, but not really headed anywhere, or at least anywhere promising.

Then, in a matter of minutes (which felt like hours, nonetheless), we emerged into what appeared to be a different stratosphere. Our ascension through the clouds had carried us above the storm, and in the midst of the brightest blue sky and sunshine I had ever seen. Below us, feathery clouds gave the impression that they were cradling our aircraft and softening its weight, along with the burden of my fears.

We had literally traveled out of the darkness and into the light.

Following the short time of fear and uncertainty I had endured at the beginning of our flight, the rest of the journey was as smooth as one could imagine, with rays of sunlight illuminating the cabin and never-ending horizons stretching further than my eyes could see. The polar opposite of what our trip was looking like at its start.

Our flying experience today somewhat mirrors what we have experienced since the first week of February. Although it may appear differently to outsiders, this season has been a stormy one at times, as rough experiences and bad days during our tough pre-conference stretch of traveling and playing sometimes left us with fears and doubts about the remainder of our time together in uniform. For me personally, things have often felt grey this season like they did amongst those storm clouds today; like my senior season has been passing me by at rapid speeds, but I’ve been unable to see any color along the way to brighten my journey because of several instances that have, at times, clouded its enjoyment.

But, the metaphor that our most recent flying experience created has given me great hope for all that lies ahead. In trusting that, like our Southwest airplane, we have already braved the grey and stormy elements of our season and are destined for beautiful forecasts ahead, I am optimistic.

It is ironic that today is the official start of spring because tomorrow is the onset of another season for our team; it is the beginning of Atlantic 10 Conference play and the dawn of our real season, the one that will determine our seeding in the conference tournament and position to win a championship in May.

As we begin our conference slate against a very tough St. Louis team this weekend, it is important for me to remember all that was realized and experienced today aboard Southwest Airlines flight 395. No matter how uncertain or daunting things may have seemed at times during these past six weeks, I firmly believe that every struggle has served as a test of our durability and ability to trust in the process and the greater plan for our season. And ultimately, it is crucial to know that on an airplane, in softball, and in life, it is often the time spent in darkness that allows one to truly appreciate the light.

I know the light lies ahead.

2015 Fordham Softball – Week 9 / A Revitalizing Delay on the Runway

Thursday, March 12, 2015 – N.C. State / Raleigh, North Carolina

Sophomore Lindsay Mayer gets mobbed after her big walk-off hit to give us a 9-inning, 3-2 win over Lipscomb at N.C. State.

Sophomore Lindsay Mayer gets mobbed after her big walk-off hit to give us a 9-inning, 3-2 win over Lipscomb at N.C. State.

For anyone who has ever traveled by airplane, there’s almost nothing worse in the flying experience than getting delayed on the runway. Or so it initially seems.

With each revolution of the wheels as they approach the airstrip, it feels as though you’re inching closer and closer to your desired destination, only to be disappointed by what happens next: the wheels stop their revolutions, the captain’s voice echoes through the plane’s speakers, and the massive carrier comes to a halt. At a moment’s notice, things go from moving right along to being stuck at a standstill, and suddenly, you’re left alone with idle time. A buzzkill during your trip, for certain.

We experienced these traveling woes today at the start of our journey to Raleigh, North Carolina. Just as we were about to take off from LaGuardia Airport, some runway traffic caused our flight’s captain to announce a delay that would have us at a standstill for an indefinite amount of time. So, we and the rest of our packed Delta flight initially sat in frustrated anticipation of our impending take-off.

At first, it seemed like the worst thing that could happen; moments of stagnancy in a stuffy airplane, a delay in the schedule, a change to the itinerary. What could be worse for fast-moving, New York City-dwelling, student-athlete-millennials like us? Probably only dead cellphones and places without Wi-Fi access.

After the first impatient five minutes passed, however, the idle time was actually pretty nice. It not only allowed me to watch the sun descend upon the ground while other planes ascended into the sky, but also to have some unadulterated time alone with my thoughts, with just the soothing sounds of my iPod filling my ears.

I thought about who our team had been for the past 16 games, who we are today, and most important, who we would be in May. It was refreshing to have some quiet time to think during our travels, instead of constantly moving toward the next destination.

Some forty-five minutes later, we finally made it into the sky and resumed our trip to N.C. State. Once we got into the air, I realized that today’s delay on the runway was reminiscent of our lives over the past 12 days.

During the first four weeks of the season, it felt as though we could barely come up for air. It seemed like we would return to Fordham from softball-filled weekends and merely blink our eyes and it would be Thursday, our travel day, yet again. A crazy life even for those of us who are used to the crazy life that comes with the college softball season.

But, for the past 12 days since our big win against Minnesota in Orlando, our crazy lives were toned down a bit. A weekend without games and some days off granted by our coaches afforded us the chance to rest our bodies and minds, and refuel for our tough weekend ahead at N.C. State.

Similar to my experience on the runway today, some time off amid our on-the-go routine gave us a chance to just “be,” instead of living to constantly “do.”

And like our situation on the runway today, the static time off was frustrating at first, seemingly unnecessary even. It appeared to simply be a break in the momentum that had us rolling right along toward our destination. Why stop the plane’s wheels from revolving once they started moving toward the runway?

But, after 12 days of limited softball-related stress, numerous chances to break down swing mechanics, and a ton of time to reflect and think, I realized that our hiatus was much needed, and may even prove to be a great thing for us going forward.

So, while a delay on a runway or during the college softball season doesn’t usually appear to be ideal initially, I realized today that it could be just what we needed to slow things down and revitalize us for the next leg of the journey.

And plus, as long as the desired destination is eventually reached, the frustrations created by the delay are almost always forgotten and the journey is remembered as an overall success.