Jy and I stayed up late in our bunks talking about the game.

Next time, we would beat them.

Badly.

By 50 points.

Next time, our two other roommates played.

We got Andrew and they got Randy.

Slightly different teams, but the same result.

0-4. It wasn't pretty. We bought them their Coke and I went to the library and Jy took a nap.

Deep down, we knew we had been wronged.

We didn't speak openly about the games anymore. Jy and I just looked at each other. And nodded. We would beat them next time and we would gloat as we sipped our Cokes. Slowly sipped our Cokes.

Next time, we played on the Common and got trounced.

We had Andrew again and they had Stephan Hall, the soccer player from upstairs. He's a goalie and has good hands. He caught everything. He even threw for a couple touch-downs.

It was raining and our shirts were covered with mud and we were getting angry at ourselves.

"Run to the ball, Murphy," Jy yelled after missing one of my passes.

"I don't believe it," I said, watching Louis catch a pass behind me and stroll into the endzone.