There’s always something in the air on the trip home. The game is played. Maybe we’ve won or lost. Whatever the result, you can feel it. It lingers around us as our emotions feed it and give it strength. The immediate joy or sorrow have been spent in the stadium. Perhaps carried over in celebrations at a bar in Rochester or in solemn heartbreak over BBQ in Kansas City.

Once the journey home begins, a tranquility descends. A collective exhaustion from the excitement of the day. Each retreats into their own world as our common passion and devotion keeps us together. Some sleep, others quietly converse; a few are simply silent, enjoying the rhythm of the ride home. Here I write. Thoughts flowing from the community around me. It’s in these moments I feel closest to my fellow supporters.

As much as I love singing in away stadiums, stealing points on the road, or celebrating in unfamiliar bars, sometimes it’s these tranquil moments that I appreciate the most. In a van in upstate New York, a hotel lobby in Boston, a bus southbound on I-5. Savoring the stillness in quiet camaraderie with those who root for the girls in red.