When University of Kentucky’s Annie Rowlands’ hit sailed down the first base line over the head of University of Michigan’s Dorian Shaw and dropped just slightly into right field, my heart dropped just slightly as well. Because I knew that meant that Macy Allen had just crossed home plate and the University of Michigan’s women’s softball team’s run for the Regional title had come to an end. As the University of Kentucky Wildcats jumped around in a euphoric state at home plate hugging each other and jubilant in their accomplishment, the University of Michigan players exited the field, some for the last time, many with tears streaming down their faces.
You don’t have to have been a Big 10 softball player on a team contending for its 18th consecutive trip to Super Regionals to know how they felt. If you have ever played a sport and experienced a loss that was never supposed to happen—a team you should have beat, a game you could have won—then you knew how they felt.
For me, it was an ASA regional softball tournament in Pennsylvania in 1982, and despite the fact that it was almost 30 years ago, the memories are just as powerful today. And as I stood there in the stands of Alumni Field this past Sunday afternoon, tears welled up in my eyes.
From the minute I took my seat on Friday afternoon for UM’s first game, I didn’t just see Jordan Taylor on the mound, I saw Dawn Mycock; I didn’t see Amanda Chidester on third base, I saw Beth Senich; I saw George Terry and Dave Mycock coaching third base not Carol Hutchins, and I saw my father smoking his cigar while coaching first base not Bonnie Tholl; Tracy Coppola was behind the plate, not Caitlin Blanchard; the team in the opposing dug out wasn’t Western Michigan University, it was the Lucky Ladies; and Alycia Ryan wasn’t in right field, I was—Kristi Gilbert, who always played much more emotionally than skillfully.
To be honest, I don’t even remember the opposing team’s name or where they were from. What I do remember is that like UM, we had already lost to them once. If we lost to them again, we would take second place. Although second place would still earn us a berth at the national tournament in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, the thought of finishing in second after placing second at the state tournament a few weeks before seemed absolutely unbearable to me as a 14-year old girl, which, of course, is what happened. So as I sat in the stands for the first three innings of a scoreless game, I felt anxious for UM—they had already lost to UK once. If they lost to them again, they would not advance to Super Regionals.
UM finally scored their first run in the top of the fourth off of an error by UK short shop Kara Dill. In the bottom half of the inning, UM’s defense and pitching held UK to just three batters; unfortunately UK returned the favor in the top of the fifth by knocking down batters 8,9, and 1—Alycia Ryan, Amy Knapp, and Bree Evans.
A great defensive play by UM in the bottom of the fifth in which catcher Caitlin Blanchard connected with short stop Amy Knapp to prevent UK’s Brittany Cervantes from stealing second, kept the momentum going and hopes were high for UM as they took their turn at bat. The top of the sixth saw Ashley Lane earn UM’s first hit of the game with a line drive up the middle. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough for UM and the inning ended without any additional runs and two players left on base.
But UM wasn’t in the field for long. They denied UK an opportunity to score any runs in the bottom of the sixth, and anticipation about extra runs in the top of the seventh by UM were short lived as Marley Powers, Alycia Ryan, and Amy Knapp successively got up to bat and got out.
Unfortunately, the bottom of the seventh started off bad and got worse. The first UK batter up to the plate, Meagan Aull, sent the ball soaring over the right field wall for a home run to tie the game at one. After that, back-to-back walks and a hit-by-a pitch walk left the bases loaded with no outs. Jordan Taylor’s eleventh strikeout of the game for a first out gave me a little bit of hope; and knowing a victory at the end of seven wasn’t possible, I began to prepare for extra innings. But that dream was short lived when Annie Rowlands got up to bat and placed UK’s fifth hit of the game down the first base line into right field to score the game’s winning run.
For a team like the University of Michigan—with with their season record and tournament seeding—to lose twice in one weekend to the same team, one of the tournament’s unseeded teams, and to lose like that, was just heartbreaking—a team you should have beat, a game you could have won. And I got a little bit weepy for them and a little bit weepy for myself as I thought back to the summer of 1982. Unlike this year’s seniors, however, at the time I didn’t know it was the last game I would play with my team—a job change for my dad moved the family to Ann Arbor, Michigan, five months later, just one month shy of the new season.
It seems every time I watch a softball game, whether it’s high school or college, live or on ESPN, I can’t help but reflect on my own experiences as a player. And to this day, those memories are some of my very best. And it’s not about the wins or losses, it’s about the camaraderie and the shared experiences with that select group of girls and our coaches when we were 13, 14, and 15 years old. So perhaps, 30 years from now, as these UM softball players are either sitting in the stands watching their daughters, grand daughters, or just the hometown team lose the game they weren’t supposed to lose—a team they should have beat, a game they could have won—the sad memories of yesterday’s loss to UK will be replaced with happier and grateful memories of just having been lucky enough to share the experience.
Go Blue!
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