On the bus it sounded like an abandoned house, all of my teammates were locked in thinking about the war we would soon face. Unlike me, scratching my thigh because of the uncomfortable bus seat and trying to close the tedious bus window from letting the frigid breeze fly through. I could only hear Tyler Boatwright’s rap music from his ipod, it was extremely loud. The distractions all around me hindered me from concentrating on the game. My inability to concentrate was something my dad and I had just discussed 30 minutes ago in the car when he dropped me off at the buses to go to the game. I thought back. We were in the car when I told him that there is a small chance that we beat Ridge two times in a year and that it would take a complete