A Love Letter to My Sport

While most of the student body was at Yale the Friday before Thanksgiving break, the 22 members of the Harvard field hockey team were at Duke University, grappling with the fact that our season had come to an end after a tough loss in the NCAA semifinals; the game had been tied scoreless until the 56th minute. Our team’s six seniors, myself included, were abruptly faced with the reality that our collegiate careers had ended. 

Four seasons of blood and sweat had ended in tears from a game we firmly believed was going to go our way. Having gone 19-1 that far in the season and facing a 1-1 record against our opponent, we were in disbelief that our season had ended. This was the culmination of our careers at Harvard: finally making it past the Elite Eight and having a true shot at winning a national title. To fall short of that goal stung especially hard for the seniors, as many of us had promised our head coach we would leave after winning a national championship.

While this loss will sting for a long time, many mentors in my life were quick to remind me that this is by no means a bad way to go out. I have had the chance to be part of four uniquely amazing seasons with HFH. While each year looked different, the sisterhood on this team has stood tall and remained a constant comfort for me at this school. 

There is also no way to put into words the joys and pains of my journey with this sport. I first picked up a stick in PE at my elementary school during third grade. I had to choose between flag football and field hockey; I gravitated toward the sport that all of the other girls did. I almost instantly fell in love with the sport. When I got in the car that day, I asked my mom if I could start playing outside of school. Luckily, she supported the decision based on my sheer enthusiasm, and I soon had the opportunity to start playing. 

I did not know then, at the ripe age of nine, that I wanted to play collegiate sports. I spent eight years playing for a club based out of St. Louis before spending my senior year on a team from Texas. I had gotten the chance to travel internationally to play and had friends at programs all over the country and the world. I chose to play field hockey at Harvard because I clicked with the girls on the team, the coaching staff, and the academic rigor they expected. Having the chance to play for this program is one of the biggest gifts I’ve had thus far in life.

I joined the team not fully knowing what to expect. I had only ever played American-style field hockey, which lacks aspects of technical refinement in favor of overall athleticism. Upon arriving at Harvard, I was confronted by new structures and shifts in what different positions were called by my new European teammates. I doubted my ability to fit into the HFH system. The first weeks of school were spent trying to juggle not only a new team environment but also a new college experience, knowing practically no one outside the teammates I had just met. 

As every athlete at this school does, I had to show up every day, regardless of how I felt. My earlier years in sports had always taught me that projecting weakness was never an option, and it was a skill that served me well as I was attempting to navigate school, sport, and sleep. I slowly began to find my place and felt even more at home once the season ended; I suddenly had time back in my schedule to go to office hours and get meals with friends. 

Then came the spring, with its early morning lifts and practice in the Quadrangle Recreational Athletic Center. I really needed to dig deep mentally as I was scootering to the Quad with tears streaming down my face from the wind. I fell back on the little girl who fell in love with the sport at its core, and the version of myself who felt so much joy from knowing that this lift, practice, or game would not be the last time I got the chance to do what I loved. 

Outside of the joy of being with my teammates, that euphoria will be the part of field hockey I miss the most. I know that other forms of it will come along as I figure out what type of athlete I am going to be moving forward, but it will be hard to find something that makes me smile as much as a big squeeze as we are about to walk out for line-up announcements. I will miss dancing in the locker room before a game and continuing to ask my coach to play country music at practice (across four years, I was never successful). 

For all the pain, physical and mental, that my sport brought me, I will look back on it with joy and pride that I made it through four college seasons. HFH was the best and hardest thing I’ve done thus far in my life. My four years with the program have prepared me for life beyond, making me a more resilient and empathetic person. This program has forever changed me for the better and left me with memories that I will cherish for life. And so, cheers to my sisters, the hottest girls on campus! 

Kate Oliver ’26 (koliver@college.harvard.edu) is beyond excited to experience Harvard as a NARP.