Sweat,
Blood.
Racing hearts,
Hurting guts,
A push, a shove, and all of a sudden,
You’re on the floor.
You get up to see that go hit by a knee.
A knee that earned you a trip to the free throw line.
But it’s not a regular free throw,
This one you get to be on the line all by yourself, all eyes on you.
Because everybody is behind the half court line.
It’s an intentional foul.
You shoot, you score. (Shot one)
You shoot, you score. (Shot two)
You get your high fives from your teammates,
And you glance at your dad/coach,
Who gives you a node as a tear of proudness,
Rolls down his cheek.