“Jusqu’au bout”
I had my tutoring session this Tuesday morning, and when I signed on to the Teams meeting, Saly and I exchanged our usual “Comment ca va?” (How are you?)
Reflexively, I answered, “ca va bien, et vous?” – realizing that the tendency for automatic response (“I’m fine, how are you?”) crosses the language barrier.
But then I paused. “Mais… je suis un peu… comment dit-on ‘sad’?”
Triste, Saly answered. Ah oui, I remembered from my high school days. Triste.
Pourqoi? Parce que… dimanche. Because… Sunday.
Sunday started out great. It was a bright sunny day, and Tayt and I left early for Montreal. All week, we weren’t sure if we’d be able to use our tickets to the CF Montreal playoff game that weekend. All week, I had turned away from all of the anticipatory posts in my Facebook feed from the various CFM groups I belong to. To think that I might not be able to be there in person to cheer on the team, to experience the excitement with a completely packed Stade Saputo and with our friends at the 1642 supporters group tailgate, and to experience what has become “the thing my husband and I do together, just us” – was too disappointing to contemplate.
Tayt, ever the optimist, had asked me midweek, “What would you rather have? To be there, or that they just win, even if we have to watch it on TV?”
But on Friday, we lined up childcare. Victoire! On the drive up on that Sunday morning, I felt immense gratitude in the sun shining down on us.
The tailgate was amazing. The largest one ever, with several hundred people. We met the mother and sister of defenseman Joel Waterman, who had been a standout all season, and they regaled us with funny stories from his childhood. The stadium was roaring. Taped to every seat was a 12-by-12 card with the phrase Jusqu’au bout, and when tout le stade waved those cards in unison, it looked like glitter twinkling through the stands.
My Module 2 French curriculum was just starting with members of the family and the first set of irregular verbs, so I had to look up the translation of that phrase. Jusqu’au bout: To the end, all the way. I remember saying to Tayt: I hope it’s the second one.
The game began, and NYCFC scored a lucky-break goal in the 6th minute. One of my proudest memories of that game will always be that the entire stadium got to its feet and chanted “Allez Montreal” as the teams lined up for kickoff. It’s okay. You got this. We believe in you, all the way.
Unfortunately another goal came shortly before halftime. In the second half came another, a penalty shot through the heart, in minute 61. Despite Montreal’s best efforts and a relentless press of shots, the score was 3-0. Shortly after that, when the beer vendor came along, we had a moment of hesitation. Do we stay, or do we leave now to beat the traffic and save a little money on the babysitter?
Tayt bought a beer.
Then, he stood up, turned around, and offered me his hand. Our seat-neighbor flashed us a rueful smile, as if to say, “a la maison?” Or perhaps, “one for the Metro ride home?” But Tayt said: “We’re heading over to 114.” The supporters’ section. Where we always fought our way, against an exiting crowd, at all the home games this season, most of which Montreal had won. So we could savor la victoire with our friends from the tailgate.
From behind the NYCFC goal, we stood for the final minutes of the game, watching Montreal work doggedly, cross after cross, never giving up. One shot did go in, but it was one they barely celebrated.
After the three whistles blew, and the players made their rounds around the stadium to thank the fans, they ended, as they always did, in front of section 114. This season, one of the team’s star strikers, Kei Kamara, had started a tradition of singing “Sweet Caroline” to the supporters group after a win. (Which was always un peu amusant – with many players who only speak Spanish, or Finnish, trying to channel their inner Neil Diamond.) But Sunday, as the players stood before the section, they all glanced at each other through tears, uncertain what to do.
A few dozen supporters piped up with a tentative chorus -- the second memory I will always keep with me:
“Sweet Caroline (bah-bah-bah!)
Good times never seemed so good…
So good!
So good!”
Then, a round of applause.
Jusqu’au bout.
As I walked to the deli after my French lesson, Tayt’s question echoed in my head. “What would you rather have? To be there, or that they just win, even if we have to watch it on TV?”
If we couldn’t have both the day and the win, the day – spent with our 1642 friends, and cheering on players who, at this level, are still mostly humble enough to come across as friends of the fans rather than as superstars – it’s not so bad to have just the day. Especially since that day ended in the arms of our daughters when we got home.
(They, in fact, were not sad to see CF Montreal’s season come to a close on Sunday. Because that meant they’d have Mom and Dad all to themselves again on the weekends.)
Oui, Anna & Amelia. Until la saison prochaine. :)