Nobody is keeping score. There are no goals, no lines, no sides - just a ball in the air and the unspoken agreement that it shouldn't touch the ground.

The ball goes up in front of a mountain that has been standing there since long before anyone thought to name it, and for a second it hangs exactly in the notch between the two peaks. Nobody planned that. Nobody will notice. The point isn't the ball or the mountain; it's the ten minutes before the light goes and the fact that everyone here decided to spend them this way.

The best games are the ones with nothing at stake.