There have been a few games where, long after the final whistle has sounded, I find myself sitting in my seat being told by CSC that I need to leave the stadium. It’s over, they say. It’s time to go, they chirp. I remember on this particular night watching Kyle hunched down on the field, dressed in jeans and a sport coat, consoling his friends after what was the most heart-breaking loss to that point in the club’s short history. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want that journey to end. It did, and RSL moved on to the next season, wins and losses, the next challenge, but the CONCACAF Champions League Final is one loss that I will never forget.