A love letter to the class of 2020

For a week now I've been trying to figure out how to accurately navigate what I'm feeling. Writing used to be such a therapeutic act for me, so I figured... what the hell... let's hop back on the ole' blog and give it a go... see if I can make sense of this nonsense.

12 days ago, I sat in a hotel room with some special people, as we discussed how we would handle the day that followed. These girls are incredible. They're resilient, incredibly intelligent, and insanely strong people. But the best part of working with them is that they love each other so much, and every single day they remind me of how special it was to be a collegiate athlete. As we sat in that meeting, the coaching staff went through the ins and outs of the Conference Championship that would be taking place the following day. The energy was calm in that hotel room. You could tell they were excited... but they were nervous too. We all were.

The top three teams from the conference meet were going to move on to the National Championship in three weeks. While we definitely felt great about the weeks of training leading up to this meet, it's important to recognize that we have some INSANELY talented teams in our conference. The top three could literally be anyone on any given day... and while I knew our team had what it takes to make it... even to win the meet... all it takes is one bad event to throw a meet away, and as a coach, holy cow... I was beyond nervous that I hadn't done enough to prepare them.

The morning of the meet was calm, but as soon as we got to the venue, the team became electric. It's hard to explain. There was an energy about them... the were ready, having a blast, and just simply enjoying the opportunity to be with each other.

They were so happy and completely in their element, that I remember walking from the practice gym up to the competition gym and thanking God that "this is my job." Sometimes it's so hard, and other times, it's incredibly magical. In that moment, when I was walking by myself, recognizing how blessed I was... I thought to myself, "I am living in a perfect moment."

The meet was great. It wasn't perfect, by any means... but they did what they needed to do. More importantly, they were proud of what they had done, and in placing second, secured a spot at the National Championships taking place on March 28th.

8 days ago, the threat of the Coronavirus tested us for the first time. We received word that UW-LaCrosse was not going to be allowed to travel to New York. It was about a day of panic and finally their administration reversed the call, saying they could travel. I thought to myself, if LAX reversed their decision... we should be good. No one else will say, "you can't go" since they reneged on their original ruling. I was wrong.

2 days after that, UW-Oshkosh was sidelined, and so were some of the teams from the East Region. It didn't matter if our administration was going to allow us to travel, we wouldn't have teams to compete against anyway. Nationals was cancelled.

If I could find the words to describe how it felt to tell our team, particularly our seniors, that their season (and some careers) were over, I would. I guess I could compare it to getting punched in the gut over and over and over again. They didn't really ask any questions. They just sat there, silently, with tears streaming down their faces at the realization that they weren't going to get to put on their grips again, or train together again, or scream "War What?" at their parents in the crowd who would encourage them back with "WARHAWKS!" It really is a family affair.

Some people might think... "it's just sports," and they'd be right to an extent. We are lucky, and so blessed. These girls are healthy, they are resilient, and they will get past this for sure. But gymnastics is not a sport you pick up in middle school... it's something these girls have been consistently doing for 20 years, and they didn't get the opportunity to know that this would be their last practice, or their last competition, or their last time saluting a judge. I can only liken the devastation to a career ending injury. Having your sport taken from you, is something I would never wish upon anyone. We all know how hard it can be to move on from something, whether it's a relationship or a season of life, without closure. And I pray for my seniors, and for all the seniors who feel slighted and discouraged that weren't able finish their career on their terms.

I do have a message for them though: 

To the Sweet Senior Class of 2020,

When you look back on your time in the sport of gymnastics, remember the people who walked beside you through each phase of your journey. From tiny tot classes, to compulsory gymnastics, to optionals and into college, know that each person who crossed your path contributed to who you are. Thank them. 

Remember your favorite leotards, the routines you choreographed with your teammates in the basement, the handstand contests and the travel meets? Those are important. 

Photo by: Michael McLoone

Remember your college visits and the feeling you got when you knew you found your home? In 5 years, when you visit, you'll have that feeling again. I can guarantee you, it will be your home for as long as you like. 

Remember the first time you represented your school at a meet, put that tattoo of the school mascot on your face, and heard your name called at march in? Good. Don't forget that. 

Remember holding pinkies or squeezing your teammates hands during the national anthem? That still gives me butterflies and I've been retired for 10 years. 

Photo by: Michael McLoone

Remember how unbelievably hard practice was sometimes. How your hands wouldn't stop bleeding or your shins wouldn't stop throbbing. Remember when you thought there was NO WAY you could make it through one more set? You did it though.... didn't you. Because you're a badass and a fighter. 

Remember what it felt like stick a landing cold and throw back that college finish with so much pride and joy? Good. Don't forget that either. 

Do you remember learning new skills in college, or changing your routine and finally nailing it! Damn, that felt good! 

Do you remember having really tough conversations with your teammates or your coaches? Those conversations that are painful and filled with so much growth and self discovery? Those are the conversations that helped you become an adult. 

Do you remember being able to walk 5 feet to your best friend's bedroom and sit on her bed and laugh and cry together for hours? Good. She may not always live 5 feet away... but she will ALWAYS be there for you in the same way. 

Photo by: Michael McLoone

Do you remember screaming so loud at a meet for your teammates that you couldn't speak for days afterward? Great. Then they absolutely know how much you love them. 

What I'm trying to say, sweet girls, is that none of these incredible moments and memories have to do with winning awards or titles or notoriety. There is not one meet that makes or breaks a career, and this ending does not diminish all of the miraculous relationships, accomplishments and memories you have gained through your journey. You have been so blessed with the ability to do college gymnastics, and I hope that you can cherish the memories that you've made without the sour taste of how it ended. You all have so much to be proud of. I hope you know that, and I hope that what you have been through deepens your hearts and souls. Thank you for your contribution to our sport, to your team, and to your gymnastics families. Beautiful girl, you can hang those grips up with pride. I think I speak for everyone when I say I'm sorry that your ending wasn't perfect, but know that your journey was always your own. 

-Al