Before this tournament, I would have taken a bronze medal. I would have been absolutely thrilled.
But today? After all of that shit? After the indirect free kick and Alex Morgan and France battering our door down for forty-five minutes and Desiree Scott hacking a ball off the line in a moment that I hope is every inch as immortal as Diana Matheson's...
I'll say it. Today, bronze feels better than gold would have two weeks ago. Good god. I know there are plenty of great Olympic moments every two years, and I know that most of those heroes don't last beyond the next commercial break, but for you and me and every die-hard Canadian fan who got up before dawn this morning to watch our beaten and battered heroes just on the off chance that they pulled out one more miracle... this will live forever for us.
More to come of course.