Soccer was my favorite game at the YMCA. I would always lace up my fastest pair of shoes. Loop. Swoop. And pull. Perfect fit. I remember one summer — one game — when we were all winners. The game was tied 2-2 with only five minutes remaining. I called for the ball. It stopped right at my feet. I took off in full sprint. I faked left then right, and the last defender ate the dirt with a heavy thud as I ran by. It was just me and the goalie left, but at the YMCA sportsmanship was the true game winner, so I stopped to help him up, because that was how we played our hardest. The game was a tie. But we could all mark the day as a win.