When my women's soccer team lost a recent 1-0 match to Luther College, it not only wasn't a victory, it wasn't even a moral victory. No white-washed version, this -- just a loss.

The best loss you could ever have.

Central had never beaten Luther in women's soccer. We lost, 6-0, last year. Comparative scores, records and rankings indicated a mismatch. Before the match, I told my players our only hope was to defend well and somehow get a goal on a counter-attack -- or maybe hold for 110 minutes for a 0-0 draw. We could do that. The premise was: They are clearly more talented, but if we follow this match plan, we have a chance. They bought into it.

Indeed, Luther was more skillful, more athletic -- and there were more of them. A flashy squad of 25 or so marched out crisply in pairs as our scruffy 14 shuffled out on a cold, windy day in Decorah, Iowa. My players defended tenaciously. They challenged for 50-50 balls, cleared the ball under pressure, showed patience in defense and got in some hefty tackles while urging each other on. Despite incessant pressure and the ball in our defensive half of the field 90 percent of the time, they didn't have many quality chances. We made it to halftime unscathed at 0-0.

At the interval, surprisingly, my team was subdued rather than celebratory. As one, they locked their eyes on me as I spoke. I made a few adjustments, but mostly I asked them to just stay the course. This would be a day in which effort and desire, not tactics, would separate the teams.

They took the field for the second half shining with purpose, full of hope. We held for 27 more minutes in the second half until Luther was justly awarded a penalty kick. Their star forward, held in check by our determined freshman defender the whole match, converted. I said to my assistant coach, "This is it, the dam will burst now." I lacked faith.

But my team continued its spirited play. They were resolute, quiet, willful. Luther had only one more quality chance the rest of the match. It ended 1-0.

What did we learn? My players learned effort alone, in spite of all the inspirational clichés, doesn't always give you the desired outcome. But more importantly, they learned that there is intrinsic satisfaction and great honor in the effort.

After the handshakes with opponents and referees, a wonderful thing happened. For the first time, the whole team and both coaches gathered spontaneously near midfield, circled and held hands. No one said anything for a while. The players' expressions ranged from satisfied smiles to beaming grins. They were pleased with themselves. They were experiencing the joy of belonging to a caring community. I blubbered out how proud I was of them. But at this moment, words couldn't improve on silence.

I didn't want to lose what I was feeling at that moment. One of my players looked at me and said, "Coach, you look fatherly." These were my good and faithful players and I was well-pleased. I found myself after 23 years as a head college coach, finishing my sixth decade, wondering if God would give me a pass so I could come down and see where these lovely young women would be in 30 or 40 years.

I took more satisfaction from this loss than any of our seven wins this year. Why? Because we had trained hard, prepared well, given everything we could give, got the most out of what we had and played with passion and joy. These are the things that matter to me most.

Maybe this will be a treasured experience for some of my players. Certainly it's clear to them now that there is much more going on besides just winning and losing. The college athletics experience is a broad and wonderful feast served by a multitude of mostly good-intentioned cooks. Clearly, it is unhealthy to focus solely on results, which is only one item on the menu.

In this grim, win-at-all-costs world of college athletics, in this society that glorifies only winners, we had found satisfaction and peace in the struggle. Who can know which touch will be the significant touch in your students' lives? Maybe when they are old and memories become their treasures this experience will lift them. This much I know: For my players on this day a valuable experience had popped up in an unexpected place.

Rick Burns is the women's soccer coach at Central College (Iowa).