Pressure

Close your eyes my friends and let me paint you a picture. Your are standing behind a line. Standing 15 feet in front of you, 10 feet up, is a orange hole, bolted to glass. You look to the right, a clock, a clock that reads zero. And underneath home, 72. Underneath away, 72, tied. You look down to your hands, a ball in them. But the ball reads "glory or shame." Your mind starts to race, is it nerves? The butterflies start flapping. You look back at the orange hole, take a deep breath, and watch the butterflies fly! With the flick of your wrist, you bring fame, honor, and glory to you and the people all around you. You my friend, have just beat pressure.





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