The Game

The whole world seems to hold its breath as they wait,

Poised like statue versions of their usually energetic selves

Their legs itching to run

Their arms itching to sweep the ball into the back boards of the goal

The air is cold and crisp, adding an extra pep in everyone’s step,

And the sky is a perfect watercolor,

 Dripping golden light onto the trees surrounding the field.

With silver light shining down on them

They pour their hearts out in the artificial daytime

They run

They cheer

They encourage

They tackle

They leave pices of themselves on the field

Every ball they run to is a new chance to change the game

To create something

Every shot is a hope

And every pass is another chance.

They work together

Their hearts are beating out of their chests but they keep running

They never stop because they need this

They all need this.

It’s beautiful and sometimes they take it for granted

How effortlessly they can count on each other for support

Running until they can’t anymore

Using all that they have and putting it towards the goal

Always on their toes

Thinking ahead.

They may not always win

But they play with their hearts

And their souls

They play for nights like these

And they play with the hope that the next time will be better

And they work.

They work until every ounce of their beings ache and they want to give in

But they don’t.

They want it more than anyone

And this year, this is the year.

They need to believe it too.

This is the game they love

This is the game they will always love.