A trip to the Women's Lacrosse League game in Connecticut became a reminder of how far the women's game has come — and how much bigger our daughters can dream.
By Halley Griggs
Last night, I had the opportunity to drive about 10 miles north to Fairfield University with my daughter to attend the first-ever Women’s Lacrosse League game hosted here in Connecticut.
She had stars in her eyes from the moment we walked through the gates. My daughter — who is naturally quiet, who often hangs back and observes before jumping in — was on her feet cheering, dancing, clapping, and completely captivated by every moment in a packed stadium.
She wasn’t just watching lacrosse.
She was watching possibility.
She watched former TTL players — Shea Dolce, Ashley and Nicole Humphrey — take the field. She watched former and current Triple Threat coaches — Madison Ahern, Abby Bosco, Maddie Burns, Kasey Choma, Caylee Waters — compete on the biggest professional stage our sport has ever seen.
She watched future Olympians, former national champions and Tewaaraton winners, and some of the brightest stars our game has produced over the last decade and a half.
And she couldn't look away.
As a mother, watching her light up was unforgettable.
As someone who has spent nearly my entire life around this sport, it was emotional in a way I wasn’t expecting.
When I was playing in college, there was no professional women’s lacrosse. Sure, it was something we dreamed about — but it simply didn’t exist.
Later, while working at Inside Lacrosse and freelancing for ESPN, I had the privilege of watching and covering pioneers refuse to accept that reality. I watched the United Women’s Lacrosse League blaze the first trail. I watched the Women’s Professional Lacrosse League emerge with a new vision. I watched Athletes Unlimited continue to prove there was a place for women to compete professionally. Each league looked a little different, but every one of them pushed the sport forward.
Every one of those leagues mattered.
Not because they were perfect.
Because they made the next opportunity possible.
When Rachael DeCecco made the move from the WPLL to the PLL, her mission was understandably focused on helping build the premier men’s professional lacrosse league. And what she and that entire organization have accomplished has been nothing short of remarkable.
But what has impressed me even more has been watching that vision expand.
Watching Rachael and the team at the PLL make a genuine investment in the women’s game — not as an afterthought, not as a side project, but as a league worthy of the same care, resources, attention, and belief — has been incredible to witness.
The Women’s Lacrosse League represents the most significant investment we’ve ever seen in professional women’s lacrosse. And last night was a testament to what that investment can create.
It felt different.
It felt like years of players, coaches, parents, administrators, investors, and dreamers all pulling in the same direction.
And it felt like momentum.
As I looked around the stadium, I didn’t just see packed stands. I saw young girls wearing jerseys, carrying sticks, asking for autographs, and believing that one day, they could be the ones on that field.
That matters.
Representation isn’t just about seeing someone who looks like you. It’s about believing there’s a place for you.
For me personally, I’ll always have a special place in my heart for Rachael DeCecco. Her leadership — and the willingness of so many people at the PLL to believe that the women’s game deserved this stage — helped make last night possible for my daughter and for every young girl in those stands.
At Triple Threat, we talk all the time about developing complete athletes and even better people. We talk about creating opportunities, building confidence, and helping our players chase dreams that once seemed impossible.
Last night underscored why it’s all important.
Our youngest players won’t grow up wondering if professional women’s lacrosse is possible.
They’ll grow up with the opportunity to dream big and — maybe one day — step onto a professional field themselves.
That’s a remarkable shift.
The game continues to grow because generations before us were willing to build when there was no blueprint.
Now, it’s our responsibility to keep building. To keep coaching. To keep investing. To keep showing up and supporting.
Because somewhere in those stands last night was another little girl with stars in her eyes. And maybe, just maybe, we were watching the beginning of her story.
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Ten miles doesn't seem very far.
But last night, it felt like we traveled decades.
Watching my daughter believe this stage has always existed reminded me just how far this game has come — and just how much farther it's going.
When I tucked her into bed that night — well past bedtime, but absolutely worth it! — I told her to dream big.
For the first time in our sport's history, I realized that those words could include something my generation never had the chance to imagine.
And I have a feeling I know exactly what she dreamed about.