THE LIFE AND TIMES OF AN NCAA SOFTBALL PLAYER

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You are not reading these words because I am a member of one of the best college softball teams in the country. Or because I have thousands of Twitter and Instagram followers and am regarded as one of the best hitters of my generation. Or because I've done anything that makes me an expert in sport, or anything else, for that matter.

You are reading these words because I am a Division I college softball player, a senior third baseman for the Fordham University Rams, with a worthwhile story to tell. A story that has more to do with the experiences endured and lessons learned through the game, rather than the game itself. A story that is without numbers regarding a numbers-dominated sport. A story that is raw and real and focused on the journey, rather than the destination. A story that is only 1/12 of the way written, and anything but decided.

The first chapter of my final Fordham softball season was written this past weekend in Arizona. Amid freezing temperatures and early-semester lectures, my teammates and I escaped our New York City haven and stuffy indoor practice facility to venture out to the desert. The Kajikawa Classic, hosted by Arizona State University, was the first stop on our three-month-long quest for our third consecutive Atlantic 10 Conference championship and trip to the NCAA tournament.

Thanks in part to the sport we play, we were treated to three days of beautiful weather and experiences playing against highly competitive West Coast competition. We also were able to enjoy time away with many of our family members who made the trip to the Grand Canyon State for our five-game tournament. From the moment we left our campus in the Bronx, the excitement for this action-packed weekend was palpable.

The warmth of the Arizona sun and our preseason enthusiasm didn't sustain our adrenalin for long, however. We faltered on our first day of games and were quickly reminded that softball will break your heart, shatter it, rather, and then expect you to bounce back almost immediately to do it all again.

In the first game of the season, Nevada was the team that offered that reminder. For six full innings, we dominated the game in all aspects: run-scoring hits, pitching dominance, diving plays and cheering fans. We were rolling.

With a three-run lead to sit on and just three outs remaining to seal the win, victory seemed nearly inevitable. (Nearly is the key word here.)

A few walks and one bases-clearing double later, suddenly, it was a tie ballgame. Worse yet, a few more hits and a couple runs thereafter, and just like that, we were trailing by two runs with only three outs in the seventh inning to work with.

In just a matter of minutes, utter deflation, devastation, and disappointment hung over the first base dugout at the Tempe Sports Complex.

Then, in less time than it took for us to lose the lead, it appeared as though we had life.

With runners on first and second, and just one out, one of our best hitters stepped up to the plate. What took place next happened with such rapid speed in reality that it now appears in slow motion in my memory.

Our speedy, sophomore slapper Amy Van Hoven sent a screaming ball on a perfect line headed directly towards the well-groomed grass in left field. A game changer, for sure.

Then, unbelievably, Nevada's third baseman reacted in an effort to both save her head and the game for her team. She stuck up her glove and snagged Amy's liner, and in one swooping motion, rifled the ball across the diamond to double-off our frozen runner at first base. Game over.

If that doesn't sum up the game of softball, and on a larger scale, the game of life, then I don't know what does. One second, you're on top of the world, with all the momentum in your favor, and then, inexplicably, the unimaginable happens. Heartbreak.

Game 1 was a not-so-friendly reminder that the college softball season is certainly not for the faint of heart or mind. The vast spectrum of emotions one can experience over the course of a seven-inning softball game, as well as a 60-game softball season, is truly all-encompassing.

But, what cannot be forgotten in the midst of the emotional roller coaster ride that is the game of softball is that the heartbreak is for a greater purpose. If I've learned anything in my three-plus years playing Fordham softball, it is that our early-season struggles have always fueled our late-season successes, and that even if they haven't produced the immediate rewards we were looking for, they made us tougher ballplayers in the process.

We learned from our game against Nevada, and while the hangover from that loss was too strong to enable us to bounce back right away against Fresno State, we were able to salvage the weekend with two wins later in the tournament: a gutsy come-from-behind performance against the Pacific Tigers and an eight-run onslaught against Portland State in our final game of the weekend.

We were reminded this weekend that the college softball season is a process; a long and arduous one at times, but a beautiful one, nonetheless. Trusting that process and understanding that heartache, and sometimes even heartbreak, is inevitable along the way, is of paramount importance for later happiness and successes to endure. With one weekend now in the books, our process is just getting started. I can't wait to take you along the journey.