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    Default The Journey - There is No Station

    The Station - by Robert Hastings

    Tucked away in our conscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train.

    Out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls. But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there our dreams will come true, and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a jigsaw puzzle.

    How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering - waiting, waiting, waiting for the station. “When we reach the station that will be it!" we cry. "When I'm 18." "When I buy a new Mercedes-Benz!"”When I put the last kid through college."”When I have paid off the mortgage!"”When I get a promotion."”When I reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after”

    Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.


    This thread could have been about the greatest sustained demonstration of excellence that parity-obsessed MLS will see in a hundred years. Three league titles in four years, and a paradigm-shattering CCL championship. We could have been the unquestioned dynasty of dynasties. We were the better team in all four finals.

    But this thread is not about that.

    It's not about the ball floating through the snowflakes over Alex Bono's fingertips. Nor is it about losing in 2016 without allowing a shot on goal. It's also not about dominating Sunday but getting the game turned by a non call followed by a fluke goal.

    It's just sports. Nobody died.

    I have a dream. I would go with the team to Guadalajara and drink from the Cup with them in their hotel after the victory. Deprived of that, I would go to Seattle and drink from the Cup at 2am somewhere. I would get a selfie of Michael and Jozy and I with the cup, drenched in champagne. Everyone who went would get that.

    I still have that dream. (Even if I have a lot fewer frequent flyer miles now.)

    These magnificent people who represent us gave us their very best every time, and they played better than the other team every time. The fact that we fell short... well... it doesn’t change the greatness. Not for me.

    When you think about who we were only five years ago, and what we have become....

    How much we love these guys, and how absolutely effing great they are.

    We could not have done it all without Pozo, Seba, VV, Nick DeLeon, others...each of whom is pure class in his own way... but I want to salute the guys who have been here for all of it.

    Michael Bradley. Jozy Altidore. Jonathan Osorio. Justin Morrow. Marky Delgado. Drew Moor. Ashtone Morgan (Mr TFC). Alex Bono. Jay Chapman. Eriq Zavaleta. Greg Vanney.

    We walk together forever.
    Last edited by ensco; 11-12-2019 at 10:18 PM.
    “What the world needs is more geniuses with humility; there are so few of us left.”



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