05/23/2026
Last night’s loss still hasn’t fully processed yet. Maybe it won’t for a while. But more than anything, I just keep coming back to gratitude and perspective. It’s seemingly way too easy to get caught up in wins and losses.
I’ve always known I wanted to coach. It’s quite literally the family business. I’ve never known anything different. And I can’t fully explain how grateful I am for the opportunity I’ve been given at Monticello.
Being from this area, it’s just different.
The players, the families, the staff, administration, former athletes — it all feels like family. That’s what makes this place special.
These seniors and so many former players have lived through the dog days of a rebuild. Through some life-changing events in my own life, I poured myself into the things that gave me purpose — and at the top of that list was this program and these kids.
This group and I grew together. We’ve seen the best and worst parts of life together and everything in between.
So honestly, a loss in extra innings can never compare to what this team has meant to me and what we’ve meant to one another.
I know some people will never fully understand it. They’ll say, “It’s just high school sports,” or “It’s just a game.”
But until you’ve been part of a grind together — poured time, energy, emotion, sacrifice, and belief into something everyone wants so badly for one another — it’s hard to explain.
What hit me most last night wasn’t even the game itself.
After the loss, the girls still wanted to go to dinner together. Truthfully, I just wanted to go home and feel sorry for myself for a little while. But sitting there listening to them laugh, watching them hug each other, seeing them still want to be together after everything unfolded… that gave me perspective.
That’s growth.
That’s culture.
That’s what we’ve been trying to build all these years.
A group that loves each other and loves team success more than themselves.
That’s how programs become sustainable. That’s how you build something bigger than wins and losses.
I told the girls this year that I needed to be better about showing the emotional side of coaching. Coaches who truly care and love their players should never be afraid to show it.
I’m not perfect, and I’ll never claim to be. But I hope every player who comes through this program understands that I will pour everything I have into helping them become better people, teammates, daughters, friends, students, and competitors. Those things matter more than any scoreboard ever will.
That growth requires hard conversations sometimes. Accountability. Conflict. Trust. Believing in each other even when it’s uncomfortable.
And this group embraced that.
It still feels unreal thinking there won’t be a Sadie, Isa, or Cassidee on our roster anymore. They were starters from day one. This senior class went from 10 wins as freshmen to seasons of 19, 24, and 23 wins after that. They helped change the standard.
But because of them — and because of the former players who showed them how to lead the right way — this program has a chance to keep growing.
To keep working.
To keep pursuing better.
Endings in sports are always strange. In some ways it feels cathartic, like you’re suddenly stepping back into the “real world” after living every day for something bigger than yourself.
But honestly, the bus ride home and the team dinner last night reminded me exactly why we do this.
My message will always be to be part of something bigger than yourself. Find purpose in serving and loving the people around you.
Thank you to this team for constantly reminding me of that purpose.
When life gets hard, lean on each other. Trust the process. Keep believing things can get better.
To our assistant coaches and families — thank you for everything. You guys are the best.
And to everyone returning: this is not the end. It’s a reminder of why we work so hard.
Best will always be the standard.
Go Sages!
