Annie Collins: Every Scar Has A Story
April 1, 2004
By Adam Zundell
Maryland Media Relations Staff
COLLEGE PARK, Md. -- Every scar has a story.
That one on Annie Collins' right knee? That one was the result of a wrong step in the final minutes of the final game of her basketball season that obliterated her knee and kept her from her senior season on the lacrosse field and put her on a long road of rehabilitation.
That matching scar on her left knee? It came in the spring of her freshman year at the University of Maryland - just about a year later, when the right one was starting to feel strong again - after a misstep on the lacrosse field doing a drill she had done countless times during her career. For Collins, the pain was instantly unmistakable: she had shredded the ligaments in her knee -- again. Gone was another lacrosse season. Every scar has a story.
But the scars only tell the beginning of the story. They neglect to tell the hours of lifting weights, agility drills, stretching and mounds of ice during the rehabilitation. They don't reveal the 14-hour days when Collins would go to class, attend lacrosse practice as a spectator, go to rehab and then do classwork before heading home. They don't talk about the frustration of sitting out and watching your teammates play. They don't speak of the enduring pain and soreness that will linger for the rest of her life. It takes just an instant to tear knee ligaments - in Collins' case, two instants - but it takes months to recover and a lifetime to cope with.
With all of those images and moments woven together into two, simple, five-inch long scars along the front of her knee; one would think there would be some sentimental attachment to them, a constant reminder of the obstacles she has overcome in her athletic career. But there's no sentiment from Collins. She doesn't wear them as a badge of courage or as any symbol ("I'm not that sappy like that," she says). They're just there, sitting on her knees as if they were birth marks.
And thus is the essence of Annie Collins. The soft-spoken, unassuming senior from Ellicott City, Md., has a perspective only injuries can provide. She has no rearview mirror into the past that allows her to feel sorry for herself or think what it would be like to have normal amounts of cartilage in her knees. This allows her to swallow any adversity as if it were sweet sugar-coated candy.
Just watch her play. If the word "poised" doesn't jump into your mind, then you're not watching No. 11. Calm behind the net, she waits for the precise moment to hit the cutter heading for the front of the cage. If it's not there, she'll re-start.
"She is very poised under pressure, and she does whatever we need her to do in those tight situations," head coach Cindy Timchal says. "I think the thing with Annie is how selfless she plays - she's out there to play for the team. We aspire to play and give to each other and she leads the way in that category."
With a team so explosive but with a tendency to be impatient; Collins is the perfect counter-balance for the Terps.
But it hadn't always been that way. As a high school player, she would blast past defenders with raw speed to get to the net. While sitting out during her senior year of high school and freshman year of college, Collins would spend time on the sidelines, passing the ball against a wall and developing her stick skills. When she was able to finally play again against live competition and realized that her speed was not what it used to be, her improved skills became her biggest strength and essentially changed the way she played the game.
"I don't think you'll ever get the quickness and agility you had before your surgery; you're just a totally different player," Collins says. "I'm more of a finesse player now than I was before."
That finesse and those stick skills are evident in Collins' 2004 season for the Terps. Her ability to fit the ball into tight spots has helped her rank among the nation's leaders in assists this season.
 Collins has transformed herself into a finesse player after two knee surgeries. |
"If you look at our offense, anyone can score," she says. "There's no need to force shots when there's people cutting open all the time. There's no need to force it one-on-one. I think the coaches have a lot more confidence in me than last year which has made me have more confidence in myself. Knowing that they want me to have the ball and they want me to do something with it and I feel more comfortable."
In accordance with her personality, Collins prefers the dirty work of assists rather than the glamour of scoring the goal.
"I'd much rather make a great pass than score a goal," she admits. "I would rather get a great interception, defensive check, or pass."
Collins' willingness to contribute in any way necessary is also the product of her perspective. She realizes that her lacrosse days are dwindling, and that this unique opportunity afforded to her is coming to an end.
"I came into lacrosse this season knowing that this was my last year and I want to put it all out there," she says. "I try to think that all of the time. This is my last time to be on a team like this and try and win a national championship."
Every scar has a story. The question now is will the stories from Annie Collins' scars include a national championship?
