By Liam Northup

The way I see it, who we are comes from the choices we make. Everyone faces unique challenges, but your circumstances don’t define who you are; your response does. The lessons we take to heart, the challenges we overcome (or try to), and the moments that test us shape our character. Like anyone, I definitely have my individual strengths and weaknesses. However, I always give my all in everything, no matter the challenge or the task. I’ve learned to keep going. My determination isn’t just about achieving goals; it’s about giving my best, even when the odds are against me. Playing in the Canadian Accredited Independent Schools (CAIS) tournament was one of the most significant experiences that developed my character. It was a challenge that pushed me physically, mentally, and emotionally. Still, it was one of the most defining moments of my life, teaching me lessons about resilience, teamwork, and perseverance that have stuck with me ever since.

Following an ordinary and tiring day at school, I walked up to my room. My exhausted legs forced themselves up the steps. Entering my room, I dropped my bag and opened my computer. I checked my Gmail as I approached my bed. I had a new email in my inbox. As soon as I saw the subject of the email, my exhaustion vanished: “CAIS Tournament.” I had previously heard about the CAIS Tournament and was overwhelmed with joy reading the email. I was informed that my JV co-captain and friend, Sassan Chen, and I would be called up for the competition. As I breathed a sigh of appreciation, I lay on my bed, excited to see what the future had in store for me.

In the following weeks, we joined the CAIS team for training. Every Friday, we played small-sided games before school; they were going well. Sassan and I even received our exclusive CAIS tracksuits (not so exclusive anymore, as the students liked them so much that RSGC decided to sell them to the student body). The tournament formations were also posted on the portal. Now, I had always been a midfielder. However, our coach, Mr. Thornbury, must’ve channelled his inner Arsene Wenger; he decided I would be their striker, a role that made me both excited and nervous.

On the day of the tournament, dressed in my brand-new RSGC tracksuit, I quickly made my way to the school, motivated by the prospect of a warm bus. Being new to the team, I wasn’t surprised to start on the bench, but when I finally got subbed in, I was ready to show Mr. Thornbury my quality. With 10 minutes left on the clock, the ball fell to Sassan in the middle. I knew exactly what to do. Making a diagonal run, Sassan slid the ball through right in front of me. As the defender ran across me, I snapped the ball behind my legs to my left foot. I had all the time in the world. It was me versus the keeper. With the game on the line, I took the shot. I watched it land right into his hands. I had missed the game-winning goal. This save left our opponents more motivated than ever. With 1 minute left, the ref awarded them a penalty following a challenge by Jamie Paterson. After missing the game-winning chance, I had to watch the ball fly into our net; I felt defenceless. Mr. Smith saw me disappointed and came over. “Hey, I know you’re disappointed, but I need you to have the memory of a goldfish right now and move on,” he said. I knew I had to keep going.

As I sat eating a small snack, I saw Hayden Berkovic on the ground with his boot off. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “I think it’s broken,” he groaned. Losing our starting center-back was a disaster. I was warming up when Coach Smith suddenly called me over. “Liam, how do you feel about playing center-back?” My heart skipped. “Uh… I’ll play anywhere, Coach.” “That’s why I love ya!” he replied.

Thrown into an unfamiliar position, I refused to mess up again. I shut down attacks, won tackles, and we won. My performance earned me a starting spot the next day, but as the games progressed, a sharp pain in my knee worsened. I clenched my jaw—there was no way I was stopping now.

We had gone undefeated in our approach to the final, winning three games and drawing one. I had earned my place on the team as the new starting center back. I was more ready than ever, but unfortunately, my knee felt differently.

The final arrived. Both teams were exhausted, but the intensity never dropped. We were determined, and it showed. We were making the HSC varsity team look like pylons. Unfortunately, the HSC goalie was playing like prime David De Gea. As regulation time ended in a deadlock, we headed into extra time, knowing a single moment could decide everything. With both teams digging deep, we finally found our breakthrough. A perfectly timed cross landed at Tye Leider’s feet. With ice-cold composure, he slotted it past the keeper. The bench erupted, but there were still minutes left to survive. In the dying seconds, disaster nearly struck. As a cross swung into our box, Sassan lunged for a clearance but mis-hit it entirely. My heart dropped. Time slowed as the ball skimmed our post, barely missing the net and leaving for a corner. With the brief break in play, I breathed a sigh of relief and hugged Sassan. The final whistle soon followed, and relief washed over us. We had done it; we were national champions.

I went to hug my keeper, Joey Passalacqua; we couldn’t have done it without him. After the game, the team was still buzzing, filled with emotions of relief, pride, and sheer exhaustion. The weight of the tournament, the highs and lows, all came crashing down at once. There was no better feeling than hobbling over on my messed-up knee to lift a national trophy. I felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment, but also something deeper.

This tournament tested me in every way. I was faced with challenges physically, mentally, and emotionally. I started as a new, younger kid, unsure of my place. I even missed a game-winning chance and was forced into a position I had never played before. But I adapted, fought, and proved to myself that I belonged. I learned that resilience isn’t about never failing; it’s about how you respond when you do. My knee throbbed with every step as I walked off the field for the last time, a reminder of everything I had pushed through. But the pain never mattered. I had given everything, and I had grown because of it. The experience was one of my most defining moments. The challenges I faced shaped the way I approach obstacles today. This tournament wasn’t just about winning; it was about proving to myself that no matter the challenge, I have the strength to keep going.