Waterford — A certain gravity must accompany use of the word "greatness" around a high school kid, whose modest life experiences normally bely any such virtue.

But there's no better word befitting Maddie Burrows, the Waterford whiz kid, whose greatness pertains less to her more than 100 career hits and more to her effortlessly cool ability to manage the vagaries of success, failure, pressure, expectation and responsibility, with maturity and sophistication that should leave many of her elders taking notes.

Put it this way: If you need to know how to act in a certain situation, just look at whatever Maddie Burrows happens to be doing at the time.

"Maddie's just really low key," said classmate Will Sutman, an all-state football player and perhaps the foundation of the senior class — as the most recent ringleader of Lancer Nation, the clever student section.

Low key. Undoubtedly. If you didn't know Burrows was an all-state pitcher headed to Villanova and among the greats in a program seeking its sixth state championship Saturday night, she wouldn't volunteer to tell you. Quite refreshing in a time when young people often dream up ways to celebrate athletic accomplishments more than they work on methods of improving them.

"She's played with joy the last four years," Waterford coach Andy Walker was saying the other day as the Lancers prepared for No. 1 Masuk in the finals. "You should see her in a BP (batting practice) session shagging fly balls and diving around making incredible plays. So much fun to watch her."

Having fun, the erstwhile byproduct of playing sports, has been losing its cachet in recent years, what with helicopter parents turning games into self-indulgent commissions on playing time and scholarship cravings. And who would blame Burrows if she walked around not "low key," as Sutman says, but uptight over the hovering expectations and responsibilities thrust upon her?

"There is certainly an expectation each time she steps on the field," Walker said. "There's certainly some pressure whether it's from fans, students, coaches, friends, family — a pressure to perform at a certain level every time. I think any human being is going to feel that.

"That said, she's been phenomenal. It's never about her. She has high expectations for herself, but I also think she understands that the game's not perfect and it's not going to be. Things may unravel behind her. She might not get the call she wants. Many players think they can control everything. Once the ball leaves her hand, it's out of her hands. It's too bad more players don't realize that. But Maddie just gets it."

Burrows struggled some in the early season, an aftereffect of a back injury from the fall. Gone were the days Walker could trot Burrows out there, exhale and all but stop coaching. Imagine: A kid who has works her ascot off at her parents' training facility in Niantic, a kid who plays all over the state and country, suddenly dealing with some failure.

And yet as they like to say in the old deodorant commercial, she never let them see her sweat.

"It was kind of frustrating to not be to where I used to be," Burrows said. "But I know how emotions can affect the people around you. So if I'm showing irritation on the mound, I know my teammates are going to feed off that. It brings the team down. I can't do that. Everyone's looking at me to like pitch well with a strong routine."

Enter parents Tim and Becky, both accomplished athletes in their days. They are 2-for-2 in parenthood, too. Maddie's brother, Jared, was the 2020 Gatorade Player of the Year, after pitching the baseball Lancers to the state title in 2019. Jared Burrows, much like his sister, remains calmer than a lagoon, even when circumstances around them aren't.

"If my parents see something they don't like, they're gonna tell me after the game," Maddie Burrows said. "Like, 'you can't act that way' and stuff like that. It's not a good look for college coaches. If college coaches see you get mad at your teammates, it's acting disrespectfully to them. Errors happen. We all make them."

Maddie Burrows' last official act as a high school athlete comes Saturday night at DeLuca Field in Stratford. There's too much ahead of her — a title to be won — to become overly wistful. Yet. But as she tried to put a bow on four years of high school earlier this week, she just started smiling.

Out there on the field during what was supposed to be a drill, three of her teammates were dancing along to the music that Walker allows them to play. Sure looks as though the whole team takes its cues from a kid whose name is already among school lore and legend for her demeanor.

"It's been a great time here," she said. "All the training that I do, even if I do have to miss social events, I've dedicated my life to this, so I'm not going to ever regret it. I love these girls to death. It's the happiest times with them. Look at them. They're dancing."

This is the opinion of Day sports columnist Mike DiMauro