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Thrill of the Game MAG
I see myself in my armor
Walking down atunnel,
Dark, like a mysterious dungeon.
There's a light every sooften,
Sure, there's even one at the end of the tunnel.
I don't know whatI'll see
Or what'll be waiting for me.
The only thing I know,
Is thatI'll be ready
At least I pray to God that I will be.
I can begin totaste the sweat,
As it streams down my face.
The smell of our distinct odorof age,
The freshness of my jersey
And the smell of the grass
Withdampness in the air.
I feel the intensity increase
With the beat of themusic
Which fades as I walk on.
The sound of the fans
Overwhelms me withpride,
As their feet stomp, hands clap,
And they chant
Win or lose thefans are there,
Cheering.
If it came down to the fans,
We wouldwin.
Unfortunately it always comes down
To us, a group of boys.
A familyof young men.
A band of brothers,
Who have bled together,
And prepare todo so again tonight.
© Anonymous
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