The girls just couldn't seem to get past the mud. The mud stopped every shot cold.

All three girls play hard. The three of them are playing in such a great rhythm, not just between each other but with the supporting players as well.

The girls really gelled as a team and pushed each other this past week. Today at the meet they challenged each other to better each of their performances.

But if Miss Golightly remained unconscious of my existence, except as a doorbell convenience, I became, through the summer, rather an authority on hers. I discovered, from observing the trash-basket outside her door, that her regular reading consisted of tabloids and travel folders and astrological charts; that she smoked an esoteric cigarette called Picayunes; survived on cottage cheese and Melba Toast; that her vari-colored hair was somewhat self-induced. The same source made it evident that she received V-letters by the bale. They were torn into strips like bookmarks. I used occasionally to pluck myself a bookmark in passing. Remember and miss you and rain and please write and damn and goddamn were the words that recurred most often on these slips; those, and lonesome and love.

The improvements we've made in the past week have been dramatic. I think once the girls get a couple wins under their belt, they'll start getting some more self-confidence and believing they can win.

We're going to miss these girls a lot because of what they've done for the team over the past four years. They've worked really hard in their four seasons here, and they've brought a lot of leadership to this team.