As sports fans, we are way too often asked to compromise.

Ticket prices, time stretched, loyalty testing losses... that one linebacker who maybe did that one really bad thing.

But in 2022-23, Iowa women's basketball didn't force us to compromise because they themselves were uncompromising. They asked nothing of us and gave us their everything. We sat in the sidecar of their motorcycle to the stars.

And the galaxy was spectacular. They played cohesive, consistent, beautiful basketball. They put up points. They relished the cheers. They smiled. They sneered.

And they took it all the way to the very last game.

If my soul still exists, it left my body during the South Carolina game. Whether we were going to eventually win or lose, I couldn't believe we spent the great majority of the game with the lead. It was probably the +11.5 spread that spooked me, because nothing else should've. These gals were up for nearly every challenge. No team (of any kind) is perfect — but at times this team verged on, attained, and sustained a transcendent magnificence.

When they lost games, it never felt like an effort problem. They weren't built to play elite team defense but still fought like absolute dogs, squeezing every ounce out of the orange. They burned the nets with their shooting. Dizzied the crowd with their passing. And they always made you feel like you were a part of something bigger.

I've followed and rooted for Dream Teams, the '90s Chicago Bulls, the Fab Five, the '00-'10s New England Patriots (I know, I know, I know), the '10s Chicago Blackhawks, and Roger Federer's 20 grand slams, and I can confidently tell you this team was a peer of all of 'em.

In our brain-melting sports world, Ringz Culture overly dominates discourse — and yes, of course holding the belt matters — but watching the way these ladies grew the game, boosted ratings, signed autographs, and let us into their experience was something nearly impossible to put value on.

Jalen Rose, of the aforementioned Fab Five, was a national runner-up twice in his days at Michigan. He never won a ring in the league, either. In his book, he preached about the Score of the Game vs. The Game of Life. This anecdote from the night they lost a national championship after The Timeout vs. North Carolina always stuck with me:

Winning is the binary way to define greatness, and, generally, it will be how and who we remember throughout history. But not every time. This team lost in the national championship game, but they still have us -- and each other.

I am a very regular sports crier, but it generally centers around joy. In this tournament, I teared up in the Elite Eight when we took our first lead in the first quarter, too many times to count vs. South Carolina (but the most by far when the clock hit zero), and early on in the natty after this Kate Martin layup.

Caitlin Clark might be the solar system, but my astrological tuning fork vibrates to the moons that are Martin and Gabbie. One solace after a very rough natty? The way those two eternal stalwarts, specifically, played.

The Captain:

You reached my life in that way, that's for sure.

Her 5 did, too.

It may be hard for me to relate to Monika's size, strength, and ability, but her spirit is inescapable. The above clip reminded me a slice of time during this year's Big Ten Tournament championship run:

We will miss her -- and so will her teammates.

But still, somehow, those were not the quotes that make me cry. It was one from Queen C herself:

Thattttttttttttttttt'll stay in my heart as long as I follow this sport. Teammates are special because they're different from all of your other relationships. You have people who know what you're going through, know what you physically might do next, and operate as a unit with you, your abilities, and your emotions.

You cry because it matters, damn it. Whether you're wearing the jersey or not.

Still, it was jarring to see our best player emote in that way:

Ms. Clark, you can stop wanting and look back over your shoulder.

I'll give the final round of quoting to Lisa Bluder herself.

And we wish we could watch them. But there will be others. And as backwards as it sounds to say right now -- that is a good thing; maybe the best possible thing. And the next incarnation of these Hawks should have limitless possibilities.

But even if they never reach the absolute top of the mountain, we will always, always, always have this.

Thank you all tremendously for the read, follow, and support this season. I've been writing about college sports online long enough for the first blogs to have a learner's permit, and this was, by far, the most special season and team I've ever been fortunate enough to cover. I've never seen Caitlin Clark lose a basketball game in person; hope that stat stays unblemished forever.

Bobby Loesch is a weekly contributor to Go Iowa Awesome. Find him on Twitter @bobbystompy, Instagram @bobbystompy, or email at bobbyloesch [at] gmail.com.