The stadium was full, waiting the runners on the track/
The runners walked on slowly, not one of them looking back/
Each sprinter looked at each other with crazy hateful sneers/
The crowd just stared in amazement, each fan giving their cheers/

Everyone knew this was Jack McNeil's year to dominate/
Jack knew this too, so looked at the others with spiteful hate/
His time in the qualifying race gave him a good lane/
All athletes felt nervous, for the gold was why they trained/

Jack looked down at his shoes, telling himself he would conquer/
His running shoes were made by Nike, one of his sponsors/
Jack was ready and put only his lane into focus/
jack found it quite easy to get rid of the crowd's ruckus/

The sprinters were now ready, their faces marked as intense/
jack did not like the other athletes, it was easy to sense/
The person shot the gun, while standing with hypertension/
What Jack felt when he heard the shot, he could never mention/

"False start! Everyone, get back!" the judges loudly cried out/
The crowd intensified, and Jack's anger began to sprout/
'Why couldn't this just start already?" Jack angrily thought/
Only the gold medal that day was what Jack McNeil sought/

Everyone quickly returned to their ready positions/
A gold medal that day was every sprinter's top mission/
The person fired the shot, and the crowd's noise was growing/
Jack started running and was convinced there was no slowing/

Jack ran and ran; all of the runners were falling behind/
The feeling in Jack's muscled gut, it was one of the kind/
When he finished the race first, he felt like he was flying/
Jack jumped with such joy, as the other runners were sighing/

The crowd gasped in horror as they watched the huge T.V. screen/
Jack's foot stepped on another lane, such a heartbreaking scene/
His heart sank deep, when realizing Marty Crowley took first/
As Jack felt great sorrow, he knew this loss would be the worst/