My proud girls’ varsity basketball team ambles gingerly to the locker room after the final buzzer, collectively devastated following a demoralizing loss. Shuttling behind them and my equally dejected coaching staff, I watch the girls struggle to put one foot in front of the other and move the barely fifty feet from the hardwood floor to the home team locker room. Every head is down, every face sad.

This is when I am supposed to rise to the occasion. This the leadership moment where I am expected to shine, lift spirits, and incite enthusiasm for another day.

It is, at bottom, why I have the job.

But I am at a total loss for words, suffering a strangulating fear that the moment the locker room door closes behind me, and we are crammed together in an ill-fitting space, I will have nothing to offer but worn out cliches, stupid expressions that will only make matters worse.

This is a new experience for me. I have never before felt ill-equipped to address the aftermath of a game, regardless of outcome. My mind reels. We had expected to win. We should have won. We needed to win. We didn’t win. And, now our playoff chances are in jeopardy.

Once inside, I look around the circle of unhappiness. Some heads are still down. Several are crying. My coaching staff is eyeing me expectantly, eager for a semblance of a head coach monologue. Then, a light goes on. It occurs to me that I am misguidedly focused on the “loss” rather than on “the team.” Suddenly, I know what to say.

"Girls, this is a moment to celebrate.” Heads raise, eyes open, many full of skepticism.

“You heard me right. This is our season high point. That game was the best thing that could have happened to us. It couldn’t have come at a better time. We have arrived at a pivotal place in our journey together.” I scan the room to confirm the attention of each of them.

“We are, to the person, devastated, yes, but because of that, we are united in our feelings, our sadness, frustration, and disappointment. This loss has brought us closer. It has ignited the power of team in each of us. This is, I want you to know, and forever to remember, a defining moment for you as a team. We have teased glory out of a loss. We have turned the corner.”

Slowly, if painfully, team leaders begin to speak and eventually others follow, including some who rarely say anything in team gatherings. The flow of thoughts and the outpouring of feelings are exhilarating. In the loss, the team finds new collective purpose and power. Optimism replaces sadness. Tomorrow looks bright.