I came to Gordon, a lovely, leafy coastal New England Christian college, this fall to finish my career as a college soccer coach.

I fled a Division I program and crossed the Rubicon to Division III Gordon for several reasons: A need to flee the maddening maze of Division I soccer that crowded my soul and emptied the other parts of my life, to pare down to the purer values and broader perspective of coaching at the Division III level, and to be part of a community that added the spiritual component to the educational process, which is critical to me at this point in my career.

George Eliot wrote, "... At a certain point in our lives we have to face the realization that our intellects have taken us as far as they could and that further growth in our potential can only come through the exercise of the fibers of the heart."

For me that means an end to coaching courses, run by instructors festooned with far too many licenses and badges, and less analysis, lecturing and orchestration that rob the practices and games of their joy; but instead, a simple, more spontaneous approach spiced with unequivocal care for my players. Simply put: obsess less, enjoy more.

This last year, for the first time in my career, I trained my players in a more uncomplicated, relaxed manner. The result was the realization that real power comes from serving your people well. This style did not compromise conveying to my players the critical value and intrinsic honor that comes from training and playing hard. I found that my impact was greater with a whisper than a roar. I also learned that at a break in training or half time of a match, when I made 10 points they remember three and when I make three points they remember three. Most importantly, I learned that simplifying things made it more fun for everyone.

It is fresh and satisfying to work with cheerful young student-athletes who exemplify the fast-fading virtues of hard work and self-motivation, yet tempered by humility and care for others. To wit: Early in the season I was walking to the practice field with my mind whirling with plans for the day -- move the goals back in place, send someone to retrieve the training vests from the laundry room, warm the team up properly and motivate them to train vigorously. As I arrived at the field, I saw the goals had been moved into place, the freshly washed vests had been laid on the bench, and my team was jogging around the field together in pairs, like little girls in a schoolyard chase, singing as they ran while waving and calling greetings to me. They were pleased with themselves, as they should have been.

From the start, they offered me an undeserved, faithful loyalty. My biggest challenge was to convince them that it was critical to compete hard against each other in training in order to prepare for their contests -- they were too nice. They offered immediate verbal and tactile support for teammates who had been corrected in training after making mistakes. They quickly gathered around teammates who went down during practice to see if they were OK. I had to ban "hovering about" over fallen mates, explaining to them that 99 percent of the time they were OK and would get up on their own.

They realized in time, that by competing hard against each other in simulated match conditions, they were honoring themselves, their teammates, their coaches and their school.

Division III has it right

What a satisfying change this past season was compared to the wobbly world of Division I soccer I left. The season before, I actually felt relieved at the end of practices and looked forward to the end of the schedule as the year wore on.

Coming to Gordon changed that. This past fall I looked upon our daily training sessions as the highlight of my day. A wonderful deal was struck between me and my players: You look right at me and listen to every word I say, and I promise to be succinct and have short meetings on an "as needed" basis.

These are not pampered, overly confident, highly recruited athletes oozing with a sense of entitlement. Rather, they are young women who love the game and play it with the eagerness and energy of Alaskan sled dogs.

I believe that Division III has it right: Come out and play hard, have fun, finish the season and then immerse yourself in the wonderful bounty of diverse experiences that college life offers. Division III offers us a balanced, healthy premise: Athletes should not be treated differently from other members of the student body, and athletics ability should not affect financial aid packages.

I came to Gordon with the goal of teaching my players with broad purpose so that they can find truths and ideals that they can carry with them throughout life -- such things as the value of trying their hardest; learning to win and lose with grace; dealing with pressure and conflict; the joy of shared purpose; effective time management; nourishing, supporting relationships; developing the virtuousness of altruism; the depth of the secret reservoirs of their determination; and perspective on the role of sport in the great scheme of things.

What about winning? Winning matters. It's ego-enhancing and exhilarating. Certainly one of my charges as coach is to get results.

But my experience tells me winning is overrated. The joy tends to fade immediately and precipitously. Winning is trumped by learning the value of struggling well. Striving for results is critical, but even that should be leavened by providing an enjoyable, meaningful, memorable experience for the student-athletes.

One of my former players visited me several years ago, about five years after he graduated. As we discussed old times, I mentioned what for me was a particularly significant win (we had upset a nationally ranked team) during his tenure. He had no recollection of the game. What he did remember, animatedly, was sliding across a wet field on his stomach with his teammates after another match. He didn't remember if we were 11-7 or 7-11. He remembered people. It was evident that he had wonderful memories of his college days and had fully enjoyed his athletics experience. I know that I was a decisive element in this player's college experience, but in this cycle of his life his friends and his teammates were what was acutely important.

So here I am, feeling comfortable at a non-scholarship Division III school enjoying the (probably temporary) glow of my players' homage. I'm not sure if I should brood or gloat.

In time, I'm sure Gordon will discover my flaws, and likewise, I will realize all is not perfect here. When you come to a new place, all things seem possible.

Then inevitably, things happen. You have to make decisions, alter the links between people, hold to principles. Flaring possibilities are extinguished by the tangled knots of day-to-day interaction.

The razor-sharp scalpel of judgment and expectation cuts away at your bliss and the sweetness gets squeezed right out of you.

I've never been anywhere I haven't wanted to leave. But as I soften into my sixth decade, I believe things might be different here.

Rick Burns is the women's soccer coach at Gordon College.