Spring Championships

Jun 12, 2026

Before we played, we all gathered around.

This is what I said Saturday—to the most amazing Palisades family. A family of forty-one teams of bocce players, who come to the park every week—for so much more than bocce.

Look around you.

Just for a second. Look at these faces.

Twelve teams made it here today. Twelve of forty-one. You played all season for this—the matches, the rivalries, the close ones that came down to the last roll. Nobody handed you this spot.

You earned it.

And today, you’re up against five other great teams. Five. And some of them, on some days? Maybe they’d beat you.

But not today.

Today, you get to decide that this one is yours. Maybe, just maybe—today is your day.

Go out there and play for the joy of it. Play for every Tuesday or Thursday you laughed so hard you forgot everything else. Play to win—roll it like it’s the only roll that matters, because today, it is.

But here’s my take.

Play for more than that.

Play for every single Palisadian in this town still carrying the hurt from that day in January.

Play for the moms.

The ones holding it all together, and holding their kids together. Those kids who lost so much more than things. Their rooms, full of memories. The sanctuaries of childhood. The places where their lives used to feel safe.

Play for the dads.

Who harbor the frustration with insurance companies, and builders, and permits—while bills never wait. And who still walk in the door trying to be the person his family can lean on.

Play for our seniors.

Who built a town that they’re not seeing, and who carry the memory of what was. Who miss their friends, their gathering places, their churches and synagogues, their neighborhoods, their corner of the world.

And do it for our town’s tomorrow.

For the new Palisadians.

For every young family walking through their doorway for the first time, hoping to find what has always made this place different. Not just the mountains. Not just the ocean. But the feeling that this town has a heart.

And finally—do it for this.

For what we’ve got right here, right now. This family. Where every one of us can show up exactly as we are—where we’re allowed to say the true thing. Where somebody will look us in the eyes, and listen. A family of friends that’ll give you a hug, and let you hug ‘em right back.