It's almost time to say goodbye to 2016, and we're already having to say goodbye to players we've loved. I've been waiting for the perfect moment to write this post - and I think now is the time. I wrote my last fanpost in a frenzy in the airport on the way home from the Western Conference win, but this one took longer to marinate. I woke up the day before we drove to Denver with a sore throat. More than 8,000 miles, 3 sleepless nights, 1 million boxes of tissues, and 2 rounds of antibiotics later... I'm waking from a fever dream holding the cup. It can't be real - but it is.

I was there when we won the cup.

A group of us took the cheapest possible Frontier airlines itinerary - Friday morning flight out of Seattle, 10 hour layover in Denver, midnight flight to Detroit, drive 4 hours to Toronto. We went straight to the team hotel to pick up our tickets. Standing outside was the first person we saw wearing green on that MLS Cup morning. He was a towering presence with a beautiful smile and distinctive hair. We went from sullen and grumpy to ecstatic in an instant. We rolled down all of the van windows and I reached most of my body out of the vehicle to scream "OH ROMAN TORRES, YOU ARE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE! OH ROMAN TORRES I WANT TO DANCE ALL NIGHT!" He cheered and danced and smiled.

The afternoon was rough. For one of us it was a first all nighter, and the rest of us are just too old for this...stuff. But we rallied and travelled to the pregame and eventually by train to BMO Field. The train ride shook me from my sleepless fog to remind me - this is it. Our shot for the cup. Singing "Born in 1974" and "Take Em All" on a train in another country, many miles from home. This is what we came for. We will be heard.

They didn't make it easy for us to be heard. We were tucked away, high above the field in a dark corner. When we jumped in unison, the whole section swayed. It was eerie. We buzzed with excitement when we arrived in our section - the place we'd make our home away from home. The couple of hours wait until the match started tried to freeze us into place. I've done some research, and with windchill the temperature was approximately: the planet Hoth. We all splurged on the free refill coffee cups and passed around a sharpie to scribble out the TFC logo.

I was in high spirits when our capo, Heather, picked up the megaphone and reminded us of first practice. From the First Day to the Last... That was my first ugly cry of the night. I'd been thinking about that "last day" since the final match of the regular season. Every match I thought - this could be the last. But I wasn't ready to be done. And neither were the boys. On that night, I cried because it was the last. For this season, there would be no more matches. No more pogo. No more hugs on the terraces. No more standing in Seattle Sunshine with my arms around my friends. I have loved this season. I have hated this season. I have lived every moment of this season, with these people, with our boys. And this was the end.

You know what happened during the match. I don't have to give you the play by play. But I do want to tell you the things I was thinking about as we reached extra time. First, I was pretty sure I had pneumonia and was going to die. I couldn't stop coughing, and every cough made my stomach hurt. Second, I couldn't stop crying and I was kind of mad about that. No real reason for the tears, my nerves were just shot. And then, The Save. It made me believe. It reminded me of every moment all season long that we'd been counted out. It reminded me of every player who fought through injury and frustration and heartache. Brad being subbed on calmed me down as well. I wear Brad's number to nearly every match. He's been my favorite Sounder since I started attending games and he was the first Sounder I met. With Brad on the field, I could breathe.

When we arrived at PK's, time slowed down to an absolute crawl. I had ages to think and contemplate and hope.

When Jozy Altidore scored I crumpled a little.

When Brad Evans scored to the right, I screamed "HE ALWAYS GOES TO THE LEFT" and I was impressed.

When Michael Bradley didn't score, I laughed because he really bugs me. (Don't follow me on Twitter you guys.)

I'm pretty sure I blacked out for a while in the middle. My sister Beth was holding me up and I was gripping my two pole like it would save me.

When Nico Lodeiro walked up to take his kick, I thought about Matt Pentz' article from the day before. I whispered: "garra" over and over. (Garra: grit or guts, a national pride in triumphing when the odds are most against you.) If ever there was a moment to triumph, this was it. And he did.

When Justin Morrow stepped up to take his kick, it took approximately 100 years. (Like I said, time had slowed.) I thought about the two pole I was gripping. YOU ARE WITH US. It had been a constant project in my house for over a week. I wanted to bring the whole Sounders family with us to the cup, so I painted a two pole focused on togetherness. I shared my idea online, and it took off. Every few minutes I'd get another text, tweet, facebook message, or reddit post with more names to add to the back. I received more than 600 names. Many of the stories really touched me. Parents at home battling cancer. Spouses and kids with just enough money to send one person from the family on their behalf. So many people who love the Sounders and make up this community that we couldn't bring along - but now they were with us. Their names, their stories, their hearts. We felt them. And they brought us together in the stands. I met and hugged so many people because they recognized the two pole and it meant something to them. In that moment, the names I thought about the most were the names of supporters who have passed away. They didn't get to stand with us in the freezing cold in Toronto, but they were present. I'm a little superstitious. I'm a believer. (And what better time to believe in a little extra magic than at Christmas?) I thought in that moment, as Morrow took that kick - that all we needed was a little help. A little supernatural nudge. I thought of those names, our Sounders family on the other side. And the crossbar intervened. Believe what you want. I know they were with us.

And there he was, our Román Torres. We started our day singing to him, and it would all end here. He brought us such joy when he signed. His injury was such agony to behold. We watched him slowly fight his way back to health. We watched him teach our squad to dance, to celebrate, to pull together. And he won it for us. He took no extra time. He believed he could do it, and he did. He scored the penalty kick. He won us the cup.

It really happened.

We left straight from celebrating at BMO field to drive back to Detroit through the snow and fly home. We missed another night of sleep and all ended up sick. We went to the victory parade and got sicker.

We still won the cup. The SOUNDERS, after dipping to the bottom of the table, caught fire and flew straight to the top. We won the cup.

Thank you for coming with us. Thank you for being our family. No matter what happens in the offseason, December 10, 2016 is for all of us, forever.