Adi is our athlete. She comes alive when competition is involved. At the end of soccer season, some of the parents were talking about the upcoming basketball season. On a whim, we signed Adi up. She had previously been reluctant to try a new sport, but the promise of familiar friends was enough to hook her.

Not unusual for us, we ended up enrolled in something that was more involved than we realized. We sometimes jump in before knowing all the details. That’s how we found ourselves at basketball practice twice a week, during the week, nestled in among all of our other commitments. I grew closer to the other parents, Rose had weekly playdates with the other siblings, and the girls on the team grew in their basketball skills.

They also grew in their hearts. Over the course of the season, I often noticed the small ways they took care of one another. Once during practice, and another time during a game, Adi shot and scored in the opponents basket. The first time, she was traumatized, immediately running off the court in tears. I saw how her teammates reassured her that it was ok. Even after we convinced her to get back on the court, a teammate came over to her after practice, rubbing her back, asking, “Are you ok Adi?” There were also plenty of celebrations on the court, the ways they high fived and clapped for each other. There were rituals performed after baskets scored. All the telltale signs of a community.

Because it is a recreation league, Adi’s team rotated playing the same three teams all season. They came to know each team well. But at the end of the season, they had the opportunity to play in a tournament. They played against travel leagues-.Teams with skilled players, professional uniforms, and a team of coaches. In their cotton tee-shirts and limited playing schedule, they showed up ready to play. When they won their game on Saturday, to a team that appeared more polished, my husband joked that the other team didn’t know what hit them. “Our girls play 1990 style streetball,” he laughed.

Sunday, as Adi’s team played in the semi-final game, their team spirit and heart shined. While they had an early lead, at half time, they were down by 6 and the other team’s lead quickly grew as the game progressed. As time on the clock wound down, the look on the girls’ faces and the tears that came afterwards showed how much this game had meant to them.

Sometimes we joke that Adi doesn’t actually have a heart. She isn’t always warm and fuzzy. But then there are glimmers that she does care about others. As I helped coordinate an end of season gift for the coach, Adi said, “I don’t actually care about getting her a gift. I want to get something for my team.” (This pretty much sums Adi up quite nicely.)

That day, as we walked out of the tournament game after the loss, I heard other parents saying things similar to the words we were saying to Adi. “You learn from losses.” I know none of that will matter in the moment. But, what I hope these girls will be able to see is that their bond and care for their team was the real win of the season.

Their basketball skills grew this season and so did their hearts.