A group of girls on a bus, and we're singing our hearts out to Bleed American by Jimmy Eat World over and over. Getting pumped up, getting ready to go. The Liberty LAX team. That year, as a new team we took third in state. We had sleep overs and we didn't run as hard as we did on the Glencoe team - yet we were better. We had fun. Salty sweat and acrid mud, and twinkling memories. Win or lose, playing the game. There's nothing like lacing up your cleats and popping in your mouth guard and cradling your stick, tightening the strings. Getting just enough so that you can pass the ref's inspection, but have enough give to actually catch the damn ball. Not that I did a whole lot of that, I was the one knocking it out of your hands. Looking back over my shoulder at my best friend, and knowing that no matter what came of the game, we'd have that bus ride together, that locker room gossip.
That drive to Roseburg, and beating them so badly our coach switched offense and defense. Scoring my only goal ever. I think they had Brit on goalie.
What happened to that girl? Fit and happy and taking the world by storm....
memories fading to grey... and yet, I still know every word.
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