These have I loved:
The seams of the ball passing through my fingers;
My teammates and coaches getting pumped for the game;
The crowd going crazy as we run out the door;
Light blue orbit gum stuck in the side of my mouth;
My mom and dad faithfully up in the stands;
“#45, KYLIE HERMANSON” ringing through the gym;
Anxiousness perspiring from everyone around me;
Teammate’s battle cries getting the team pumped;

The start of the game, with that first touch of nervousness;
Beating my girl up and down the court;
That first 3 of the game dropping straight through the net;
Diving for that loose ball and making the play;

Sweat dripping from my brow all the way to my mouth;
Cold water from the water bottles quenching our thirst;
Playing together with one common goal;
Feeling like you would do anything for one of them;
Picking her up when she’s on the ground;
That one single point in the air after we scores a basket;

Coaches reassuring tone;
Smiles from my teammates;
The looks from the other bench when the clock hits zero;
The other team’s dreary hands pushed up against mine;
Kissing my hand and the top of the door way;
The smell of victory;
Redemption.