It's over, and it was beautiful.

I'll do wednesday later. Thursday is too great to risk forgetting it.

Well, today was our last soccer game. I don't know what else to say. Well, actually I have a lot to say, far more than I could ever put into words.

My father took me to soccer, because he watched our last unthinkable defeat, and because he wanted to see us/me play properly. We discussed politics in the car (a completely different discussion from one you might have with Kaj, if also similar) while I ate corn. We ran into Em, Kaitlin, Amanda, and Amanda's parents on the road (they rolled down their window), which was a little embarassing -- not because of the little umbrella emblazoned with early Jean-Baptiste Quebec flags which my father wore over his hat and which I love, but rather because my face was covered in corn. Ah well.

We played the team we have won against several times before, but they brought up a couple of exceptionally good bantams (don't they know we're not good enough to play against bantams?). However, we stayed hopeful all throught the game. And one thing after another kept happening right. It truly was the best game, or at least the most fun.

Jenna showed up ten minutes into the game, after telling us that she would be lucky to make it to the second half. And Jenna, who is always amazing, played exceptionally well today. She played forward the entire second half. And that one play where she got through two people and made an incredible pass....

Cameron, along with some more of Em's friends, showed up at about the same time as Jenna to cheer us on. Picture five girls and three guys jumping up and down on the sidelines screaming, "GOMOWEST!" Nor were they our only cheerleaders -- Amanda was especially supportive today, as was I. After all, what is defence for?

They scored twice during the first half, but our goalie made several of her famous saves. Then, right before halftime, we scored, much to Amanda's and everyone else's elation. I was so immersed in the game that I didn't realize it was halftime until Amanda called me off the field.

My team. My team has never been better. Ever. I swear, every single person on that team is awesome. Everyone is friendly, everyone tries their best during games. I have never been so happy among a group of Montreal West people. Owing to a Lack of Monica (but I am convinced that the pep talk she gave me on Monday was the reason today worked out so well), no one but Kaitlin ("You have to score! You haven't scored all season!") was showered with a water bottle. (Mine was almost too hot to drink, after being left in the car for an eternity and a week. I guess it was sort of sterilized.) As it turned out, though, showering was not necessary.

Then...they scored again. It was not a good goal -- it bounced off the post from an angle. Or rather, it bounced in. Our goalie had no time, though she tried -- because, let me tell you, we have the most incredible goalie I have ever seen. She's not yet sixteen and she plays like a professional. She kicks clean across the field. She can stop a breakaway nine times out of ten. She dives, she lunges, and she can throw to someone at the halfway line. At one point she jumped to seize the ball at the very top of the net. Elise (provided that is how you spell her name) has to be seen to be appreciated. (Incidentally, she is also a great forward.)

We on Fence have one main obligation: Stop the ball. This is something I am not good at, though I am somewhat better at it than I am at shooting, dribbling, passing, heading, or basically anything aside from kicking it aimlessly across the field. And although I am good at positioning myself from a distance, when the action moves near me I invariably lose my head, scream like the raving lunatic I sometimes think I am, and charge toward the advancing forward. As I said, we are also cheerleaders, lifting the spirits of our 'mates. In short, the task delegated to forwards is to win the game, whereas the one 'fencers have to consider is not to lose the game. (Halfbacks are meant to run around and pass to people. Which can be fun.)

And defence involves a surprising amount of teamwork. Defenders posess a sort of telepathic communication. When one runs up to the ball, the others fall back -- a silent agreement forged on the spur of the moment.

Well, anyway. After that goal we became agressive. We moved up -- a lot. At one point Elise made a "save" a third of the way out across the field. And I managed to pull off one good play -- a fluke -- by kicking the ball into the arm of a girl on the other team. (Elise took the free kick).

And then we scored. And we jumped up and down like the raving lunatics we all are, deep down.

As if on cue, the skies opened.

Five minutes before the end of the game saw a score of three-two for westmount, the private school kids on the side becoming completely soaked through their uniforms, and my father standing close by, completely dry under his Quebec hatbrella.

Five minutes pass. The whistle sounds, and we basically go nuts. We charge across the field, jump on each other, and scream our lungs out. Breaking up the team was such a terrible thought that all we could do was scream for the joy of the season. Individual sports can be so unsatisfying. Even skiing. There is nothing like the warm, heart-bursting team spirit of a group of friends and neighbours. Nothing in the world. We lost, but we were crying with pure happiness, or perhaps pure sadness.

Our wonderful coach, Amanda's mom, gave us one final speech. We promised to play at the Westmount summer pick-up games on mondays and wednesdays and began planning a party -- which I will likely miss. And then we left. And now here I sit, drinking homemade lemonade from a beer mug. Ruminating, and reveling.

Sometimes all you need is friendship, love, and a few summer showers.