My cousin is about six feet two inches tall and plays for Fairfield University. Last weekend we went to see her play. I have watched lots of basketball games, but none quite like this. Because it was girls basketball, I expected an easy, clean game, and a pretty boring one. Boy, was I wrong.

As we filled the arena, everyone was excited, cheering the team. I couldn’t get over the size of the players. I hadn’t seen my cousin for a while. She had gained a lot of muscle, and looked like she could take on a pro football player. I soon found out the reason for this dramatic change.

I was amazed at the violence in the game. The colossal girls swarmed the ball like a school of piranhas. Their elbows flew and I must have counted six times someone was knocked to the floor. Two players would embrace the orange ball, dragging each other to the floor until a ref had to decide who got possession. One girl was so physical that she actually got kicked off the court.

It was stunning to watch the complexity of the game. Each team had its own set of plays set in motion by words or gestures. They ran decoys and set screens. It was almost like watching a military mission. They also used different players for different jobs. The larger girls would bring the ball down court and then pass it to a smaller girl, who would weave through the mass of defenders and bring it to the hoop faster than lightning.

Then when the game was over, the oddest thing happened. These same girls who had been tearing each other apart a few minutes before hugged, shook hands, and played horse. They split pizza and told stories. That’s the last time I will ever judge a girls’ game before I see one. It topped any basketball game I’ve ever experienced. .