Heat waves

God, I need ice. Or ice cream. Or shade. Or a pool. Or a blizzard.

We'd hoped all day that the game would be cancelled. Of course, we felt similarly on rainy days. But there was something more miserable about running on the grass as the heat tightened around us, more stifling than any defender.

But 4:00 came and we were on the field, kilts and jerseys in place. Our hands were sweating already as we gripped our sticks, tensed for face-off.

Not many fans came to watch junior varsity girls' lacrosse, and especially not on a day like today. Our teammates on the bench clapped half-heartedly. For once, being on the bench was enviable. In fact, with our small team, only two players were on the bench at a time.

For a time, the ball stayed in action towards the other net. I shaded my goggle-covered eyes and wondered if the ball would make it to this end before the end of the half. My fellow defenders were less diligent; some chatted with who they were defending and others stretched their arms to the sky in hopes of getting some color.

But an opponent came streaking down the field, cradling the ball. Soon we were all running, shouting, shoving, striking stick against stick. We didn't think about heat. We didnt think about thirst. We thought about getting the ball away.

I chased ground balls and batted them away from the other team. I fired the ball to the nearest open teammate shouting my name. As she sprinted the other way, the whistle blew.

We all looked. There hadn't been any fouls.

No, it was a mandatory water break. Everyone placed their sticks on the field to mark their positions. Then we trotted off of the field and drank the water that would be sweated out of our bodies as soon as we returned to play.

We remembered then that we were overheated. That the warm water would merely moisten our mouths. That the sun's descent couldn't happen fast enough. Our shoulders sagged as our coach critiqued our game thus far.

Then the whistle blew again. We jogged back onto the field. We took our slick sticks into our hands. And we began to play again.