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November 22nd, 2014
The game is on. Astrid is the only one watching.
Her parents are making dinner together, and her brother is trying to steal the remote.
"No," says Astrid, calmly holding the remote over Marcus' head. "We're watching my show."
"The Maple Leafs are playing!" Marcus makes a futile jump to capture the remote, but he's too short. "Come on."
Marcus thinks hockey is the only sport in the world. Astrid knows better. For her, there is nothing but football.
Today is day fifteen of the game, and they still have live coverage. Astrid is glued to the screen, watching as the Argos and the REDBLACKS take a nap, a few players from both sides standing watch in case the other team tries to make a surprise play.
"This is boring," grumbles Marcus. Marcus doesn't understand sports.
"Dinner!" shouts Astrid's mama.
"What is it?" asks Astrid.
"Poutine," says Papa, which could mean anything.
"Can we eat in front of the TV?" asks Astrid.
"No, no," says Mama, and comes in to turn the TV off. The screen goes black on a close-up of Volquez's face, asleep and dreaming. Dreaming of a win, probably.
Astrid carries that in her heart for a long time, even when she's distracted by chicken casserole poutine with Worcestershire sauce.
---
January 3rd, 2018
The game is on. Astrid is listening to it on the car radio, on the way to her first day at her first job. It's just working at Tim Horton's, in their produce department. It gets her out of the house.
There hasn't been live footage from the game in years. Sometimes they get pictures, a few seconds of phone camera footage taken by a Mountie farmer. The analysts are discussing one of these artifacts right now. Tebow is still in possession, they say. The footage shows Volquez at his left, and she looks tired. The analysts think she might need to take some injury time.
"You can do it," mutters Astrid. She ignores the old familiar twinge of uncertainty when she realizes she doesn't know what she's rooting for. She just wants the Argos to do it.
She parks in the employee area and gets out of the car, regretfully shutting off the radio. Inside, the TVs in the sports bar are tuned to the Raptors game. Astrid thinks about asking if they can switch to the real game, but she doesn't want to get fired on her first day.
---
March 14th, 2020
The game is on. The TV doesn't work anymore, the lights turn off at 8pm, and the electric moose haven't moved in months. But the game is on, at least in Astrid's head.
Astrid knows that the energy crisis is a big deal, that Canada is getting off lighter than most, that each of them need to do their part. But at 8.05 pm, when she lies down to go to sleep before waking up tomorrow at 5 to work at the solar farms, Astrid dreams of the game.
She bets Volquez has the ball. She bets they're going all the way.
---
August 12th, 2024
The game is on. The game is on the jersey that the woman in the back booth is wearing, a St-Hilare Argos jersey with the neck cut so low that Astrid can practically see her belly button. The woman stops talking to her friends when she catches sight of Astrid, of Astrid's too-small Volquez jersey. The woman waves.
Astrid downs her maple grasshopper, leaves a ten-dollar coin on the bar, and goes over to make friends.
"What do you think they're doing, out there?" she asks the woman (her name is Diya, it's beautiful). "Can I buy you a drink?"
"I'll take a shot of Molson," says Diya. "And I bet they're being effing amazing."
Astrid flushes, because her mama never trucked with swearing. But she agrees with the sentiment.
The candlelight is soft and warm against Diya's neck as she gulps her shot, and Astrid buys her another just to watch her drink it.
---
December 25th, 2026
The game is on. It's on page five in the newspaper. Astrid nearly drops the newspaper into her Capitaine Crounche in shock.
"Honey," she says, and Diya looks up from her toast and Canadian Bacon. "Honey, the Argos are home."
There's going to be a welcome ceremony to meet the Argos' boat. It's in three hours, and Astrid scrambles into her jeans, jersey, coat. Diya follows behind, picking up Astrid's pajamas to throw in the hamper, laughing. They get in the car and drive across the city to the harbor. Apparently the Argos are coming into Toronto by sea, which has been easier since they dug the New York Canal.
There's a cluster of twenty people or so there to greet the team, all wearing jerseys. They're faded, or home-made, altered to fit growing bodies. The youngest person in the small crowd is about five years younger than Astrid. The oldest person there is Rocket Ismail, wearing a Means jersey and the biggest smile in the world.
They all cheer when the boat docks. The sound is small against the vast emptiness of the water, but it makes Astrid's heart feel like it's going to burst. She kisses Diya, and Diya laughs into her mouth.
Tebow is the first off the boat, blinking and wary. He waves at the crowd, but he looks somber. Volquez and St-Hilare are right behind him, and Astrid can't help but scream. "We love you, Nereida!" Diya isn't laughing at her now, screams even louder. "We love you, Maryse!"
Volquez and St-Hilare grin at them. Tebow smiles. Astrid and Diya jump up and down, squealing.
The game is in front of them. The game is over.
"You did it!" shouts Astrid, and the rest of the crowd takes it up. "You did it! You did it!"
"Yeah," says Volquez. "Guess we did."
It is, as Astrid will tell her children and her grandchildren and her great-grandchildren, the best day of her life.
Okay, she will add, after Diya slaps her in the back of the head. Marrying Diya is the best day of her life. But seeing the Argos come home is a very close second.