By Evan Tecimer

The final leaves fell. It was an unusually warm October day, certainly one of the last pool days of the season. The multicoloured red, orange and yellow leaves filled the pool. Suddenly, my attention, shifting from the beautiful leaves, fixed on the shadow descending the smooth stone steps. The look of ecstasy on my sister’s face said it all as my mom approached us with her famous, delicious chocolate chip cookies in hand. Instantly, we scrambled out of the pool, striving for the first one. With my slight push, my brother found himself back in the pool as I reached for my first cookie. After, and only after, I had taken the first bite, I noticed my grandmother and grandfather with my mom. I greeted them, offering them both one of the many cookies I had taken. After politely declining, they began asking the dreaded questions. Abruptly, it seemed that the sun had set, even though it had not, as I raced for the warmth and comfort of the towel I left behind only moments earlier. “Are you all packed?” my grandmother asked. Noticing the immediate worry in my eyes, my grandfather tried reassuring me, “don’t worry Evan, you will have a great time.” While I desperately wanted to believe him, I simply could not; as the day drew nearer, my original excitement from only a few weeks prior developed into significant fear and anxiety.

After we ate dinner, I raced to my room. Seconds felt like hours passing, and minutes, days. Putting an end to my brutal cycle of trying to slow down time, my dad entered my room. “Evan,” he said, “I can’t promise you that you’ll have a great time on this trip. As much as I want to, I just can’t. I can, however, promise you that if you make the most of this opportunity, if you try to make new friends and you actually try to have a good time, not only will you have a great time, but you will remember this experience for the rest of your life.”

The drive to the airport was torture. My anxiety had grown significantly and, finally, had peaked. My parents, sensing my uneasiness, opted to remain silent throughout the ride. In a car usually filled with conversation and laughter, only silence and emptiness remained. Once we had arrived at the airport, we proceeded to locate and join the rest of the group, meaning that this would be the moment I had to separate from my parents. Thinking about the various words of encouragement and advice they gave me, we exchanged a concise but sincere goodbye as I made my way towards my coaches and teammates. Once the entire group had arrived, checked in and passed security, we made our way to our gate. We got settled and, much to our surprise, our coaches allowed us 20 minutes to purchase items within the nearby shops. Before they could give their idea a second thought, our coaches found themselves standing alone. I decided to partner up with Elias Dimakos, a friend who had just moved into the neighbourhood. Together, we made our way to the duty-free shop. After browsing the various magazines, candy varieties, and games the store had to offer, Elias had set his eyes on a peculiar item: a bottle of cherry-flavored Sprite. While many other boys followed his lead, I found his purchase unfathomable. I thought to myself, “why would anybody drink a Sprite at 8:00 am, let alone Cherry-Sprite?” I returned to the gate empty-handed, unwilling to take a small, harmless risk. About half-an-hour later, boarding and taking my seat on the plane, I found myself incredibly thirsty, but by then, I couldn’t do anything about it. All I could do was shift my gaze to Elias and his ingenious purchase of the Cherry Sprite.

The flight, lasting a few hours, came to an end and made its descent towards Vancouver International Airport. Although the tournament was held in Victoria, the school had allowed us to arrive a few days early to tour Vancouver. Directly from the airport, we made our way to Grouse Mountain. Our group proceeded to join the massive yet crowded cable car and began making our way to the top of the mountain. Looking out the windows, we could see miles ahead of beautiful Vancouver Island. Later that evening, arriving at the hotel, our coaches announced our roommates. I was paired with Trace Landon, a friend of mine from my old school; Aris Kanellopoulos, a boy I had not yet met but lived in the neighbourhood; and my good friend, Elias. I could not have been more pleased with my roommates. The next morning, after eating breakfast in the hotel, we traveled by bus to Granville Market. Throughout the day, we were given ample time to explore the several stores around; however, not all of us did so. In the third store that we entered, Elias locked eyes on an arcade machine, one with an extraordinary prize: a Nintendo 3DS. As the other students moved from store to store, we sat there spending dollar by dollar waiting for our reward, as if it were our birthright. After a couple of hours, we realized that we had no chance of winning the prize, but we both agreed that it was time well spent. Before I knew it, our trip, the one that I was terrified of, the one that I prayed I would not have to attend, was more than halfway over. I was disappointed.

Cleaning our rooms and packing our bags, we prepared for our departure from Vancouver and arrival in Victoria. About to board the ferry, I remembered a conversation I had with my parents. When looking over the trip itinerary, they explained that during the ferry ride, if I kept my head on a swivel, there would be a good chance that I would get to see many majestic whales. Entering the ferry, I searched for the perfect spot to observe these creatures and take in the beautiful scenery around me. This plan went out the window about 30 seconds later when I saw a group of boys running by me towards the other side of the boat. Instantly, I began chasing after them, thinking that they had seen the first whale. Instead, when they had come to a stop, I was face to face with a retro Mario Kart arcade game. As we had just hit the water, I naively thought the likelihood of seeing many whales was slim, so I decided to stay put. When it was my turn to play, I looked forward to showing off my skills, choosing the most difficult course in the game, Rainbow Road. To my shock, when I had finished my race, we had already arrived in Victoria. While I had missed my chance to witness the magnificent whales, I spent the ferry ride developing friendships with my classmates, and I have no regrets about doing so. Time flies when you’re having fun.

For the remainder of the trip, we became tournament-focused, practicing our plays, goal kicks, and throw-ins several times. The tournament had begun. Although I had originally tried out to be the team’s goalie, I started as our right-back. While I was worried about making the switch, the adjustment from the two positions was easier than I thought it would be. That seemed to be a common theme throughout this experience. Our team fought hard but fell to the consolation bracket after the first day. The second day was like the first, not particularly eventful, but extremely enjoyable. By the third and final day of the tournament, we were to play against UCC in the consolation semifinals. The game went back-and-forth, eventually heading to shootouts, but unfortunately, we lost 2-3. The loss, though it was a painful one, was not what I remembered from that day. After we had eaten our dinner, our coaches had taken us for celebratory beaver tails. Our coaches did not seem aggravated by our losses; they were proud of our wins and made the most of our last day on our trip.

As our time came to an end in British Columbia, we made our way to the airport in Victoria. Our coaches, for the second time, allowed us to browse the various shops near our gate. Visiting the duty-free shop once more, Elias had asked if anyone wanted to split a pack of beef jerky with him. Finding myself a little hungry and unwilling to miss out on the opportunity this time around, I paid him for my half. With the plane about to take off, Elias had quickly left for the bathroom. When he returned, however, he found my mouth full and our pack of beef jerky nearly empty–another great purchase. I had learned from my previous mistake and made the most of the opportunity presented to me.

Looking back on this trip, it seems almost foolish that I did not want to go. I got to travel, play soccer, and make new friends; what better experience could I have asked for? Initially, fear had taken control of my body, my mind, even my life. As my anxiety built, I began imagining and overthinking all the possible negatives about going on this trip. If I had looked at the positives first, I never would have had any anxiety to begin with. The lesson I learned is that if I try to make the most of my experiences, I can turn nearly any situation into a positive one. If I had given in to my fears and bailed on the tournament, I would have missed out on one of my greatest memories and experiences of my time at RSGC and my entire life.