The 2021 Rams Reflect is the sixth in a series of annual collections. Senior captains and representatives of Suffolk teams have been invited to contribute viewpoints based on personal experience from both their senior seasons and full varsity careers at Suffolk.
For a complete listing of past and present Rams’ Reflections, click here.
Constance Phelan | Hometown: Longwood, Fla. | International Relations
When I was nine years old I saw someone pitch for the first time and I instantly fell in love. I spent weeks mimicking the motion with a tennis ball in my backyard, a child in love with the game, completely unaware of the way pitching would change my life. By the end of that season I had my first pitching lesson, and 11 years later I threw my last pitch as a college softball player. Years of drills, spins, and people yelling at me to use my legs came down to a final 98 innings (where I still only occasionally used my legs).
Playing a sport is not easy, especially not at the college level, but it is not supposed to be. In the midst of the 6 a.m. workouts, the countless practices, and the lack of a normal college life it is easy to lose sight of the childhood love we once had for the sport we play. We forget where this all started. There have been multiple times throughout my career where I have questioned my love for softball. But the best moments have come after the times that were the hardest. If I was to offer one piece of advice to the girls who come after me, it is that you should never give up; this sport gives to you what you put into it, so keep pushing. And never forget that playing is a privilege; one day this will all end and you will want it all back.
In those final games you remember everything; every amazing moment, every time you wanted to give up, every time you stood on a field and thought I never want this to end. As I stood on that field for a final time, I remembered being 12 and loving everything about the game, being 16 and thinking I would play forever, being 20 and thinking four years of college softball would not be enough. During those last days I kept thinking I needed to work on my change-ups before next season, and then realizing that I would not be the one throwing them. It is hard to think that something that has always been there will no longer be there.
Thank you to ALL of my coaches. You have all had such an impact on me that I cannot even name any of you because the list would be longer than the word count I have for this reflection. Know that each of you are so important to me and have taken part in molding me into who I am. Thank you especially to my pitching coaches, who have served not only as coaches, but also as therapists. Thank you for understanding that sometimes I needed to talk more than I needed to throw and believing in me more than I believed in myself.
Thank you to the teammates who have supported me through everything, who have given me countless pep talks, who have taken walks with me down bullpens, sidelines, and fences. Thank you to the teammates who have made my life easier because of their incredible plays or their great at bats. Thank you especially to my teammates this season, who reminded me what it means to truly love this sport. My one wish for this season was to feel the way I felt when I was nine years old again, and I hope that all of you can experience that childhood passion once more in your final games.
But most of all, thank you to my parents for giving me this sport. Thank you for supporting me through everything, for solving bat and glove catastrophes, for all the sacrifices you both have made to give Hunter and I the opportunities that we have had. Thank you Mom for knowing when I needed Dad to stop talking about softball, and thank you Dad for being my biggest fan (except for maybe the cat because she really seemed to like the livestream). I cannot thank you both enough for everything you have done for me.
So who do you become after you take your jersey off for the last time? You spend your whole life dedicating yourself to a sport, and one day it is not yours anymore. I am no longer an athlete, no longer a pitcher, no longer number nine. After 19 years of softball molding me into the person that I am today, it is not a part of me anymore. I think what makes saying goodbye the hardest, is that softball will always be there. There will always be another game, another inning, another pitch, I just won’t be the one throwing the ball. I don’t know what it’s like to not be a softball player, but finding out what comes next feels like stepping on the mound. It’s that same anticipation, a mix of excitement and fear for the pitch that’s about to happen.
Forever and always, go Rams! (And Noles)