There was no question that this would be a tough year for Black Bear hockey. It has, nevertheless, been a rich one.

For veteran players on the team, it would be trying to generate the fire needed to win games when it would be ever so easy to give this season up to sadness and a justified melancholy over the loss of coach Shawn Walsh. There was life’s lesson, learned the heartbreaking way, that this was just a sport, just a game, and matters of far more import were going on all around them.

For younger players, there was the “now what” question. You came to Maine to play for coach Walsh and now he was gone. You watched the grief and mourning and tried to fit into a life’s scene you could only partly understand.

For the coaches, especially head coach Tim Whitehead, there was a closet full of wonderings. How best could you go forward? How would the players react? How would the fans respond? Could you avoid the natural malaise that tragedy brings? How long would it take before coaching this game took on a viable meaning again?

The fans knew an era was over. Sure, beginnings and endings occur daily for all of us. That fact does not remove the tests such changes bring to all our lives, and after all, we are talking about hockey in the context of one’s passing way too soon, and too unfairly.

We live in a time when doing what is right, changing a tire for a stranded motorist, becomes a matter of heroism in the press. Just a thank you and knowledge that you did the right thing is enough.

So, to the Black Bears and their staff, thanks.

You appropriately celebrated Shawn’s memory throughout the season. You played with fire and desire and carried through on the commitments the hockey program owed to the university and the community.

You found a place for the grief and sadness, but neither doted on nor trivialized that place.

You did what you were expected to do without excuses or excesses.

Yes, you also won games. There is probably a renewed appreciation for what winning games means, and perhaps more importantly, what it doesn’t mean.

Now you have a chance to do more. You continue a season playing a game you love and realizing how precious every shift is in life. You have grown closer as a team in making this season work.

You have seen in others the good and the bad that difficult times often bring forth. You have had the opportunity to ask yourself anew what in life has meaning and where does what you do fit that definition.

In the context of all of this year, you can now add a national championship that may say more about growing up than playing hockey. You will cry when the season finally ends. You will hug and smile and hug again.

You will remember all you went through and those who went with you. You have learned that life goes on because caring goes on: Caring about those who suffer, caring about your friends, caring about who you are and what you do.

And all of these things you will do and feel, national championship or not.

The trophy has already been awarded – and you won.

Old Town native Gary Thorne is an ESPN and NBC sportscaster.