The game
Hurling in the air like shards of glass ripping and tearing through your lungs
Exhaling out like it was your last breath. The score close, 13-14, beams of the suns light no where to be found and the coldness wrapped around you like white on snow. Thinking about the talk around all the schools, “Bonneville, who’s that.” “Bonneville…easy take away team” All that work saved up. All the pain the sweat and even tears yes even those feminine tears that we fear, all the friendships we’ve made over these years. Just because of this game. We stroll out toward the battered and torn battle ground. Being lifted by the glorious site of the prize, the trophy the name the respect all which we would almost die for, just for the game. Everyone in there positions no one make a sound, the reff declared “players down” my heart was racing just watching that ball. But I remember always to wait cautiously every time. The thunder in my head was rolling with all its might “players set” no one could feel the way I felt. Those 1.3 seconds felt like a lifetime of sitting and waiting. Threw my mind I was thinking the clamp the sweep the, WWEEEET. Without thinking the kid next to me was swift like... nothing I couldn’t see where the ball and he had gone. Before I thought the second whistle came too an instant. My heart rushed to the yelling of the oblivious enemy and the reff calling “false start, free clear” the yelling the cheering the thunder in my head, the twenty seven seconds left in the game. The whistle came the rush of testosterone cycled threw me. As I ran toward the goal the red in the defense eyes glowed. I was scared what if I missed what would coach think. Without a thought I pass to my other teammate. His man controlling him like the rag dall that he is made him pass back to me “o great here’s my chance” the ball felt ridiculously heavy. I stroked back the ball still inside. A whish! A bash! The pain in my neck! The waiting, the quietness o great I think i’m dead! Still quiet still silent nothing yet then in that moment the ping of the left hand bar. The final ring of the end of the game bell made my heat sink deep down, I felt like gagging. All the work the tears all the hard times in conditioning. My team was sad mad and disappointed. I never felt so low in my life. The coach spoke with boldness “i'm proud the way you played today doesn’t matter win or loose you all have become better lacrosse players and gentlemen too.” The team was lifted like dieing and going to heaven. We all laughed and shared our great and precious memories, all the times where we had huge mistakes. And all the glory hogs favorite plays. Well one thing is for sure, in me not a doubt, that there is no better sport. The thing that made us better athletes better people and gave us better friends. We all have one thing in common my team and me that is we love this thing, this thing is the game.
