Grosse Pointe South

March 28, 2011
By Lauren.H. GOLD, Lambertville, Michigan
Lauren.H. GOLD, Lambertville, Michigan
17 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Muscles are tight and tense
with a chill that wrings its grip.
Jaws are set and clenched,
in an attempt to keep them from dropping—

dropping like the tears that streak the faces
painted with the colors of war—
red, white, and dirt.
like the hopes that stood so high in the stands.
like the Styrofoam pieces of a cup
ripped nervously at the sidelines,
as the red numerals ran out.

Four seconds to none.
Just enough time that the other team won.

Their tears mix with sweat—
Salty and bitter without the sweet.
Their limbs and hearts ache,
overused and longing for what could have been.

The author's comments:
This past fall was my high school's best football season in history. We went 11-1, and made it to regionals in our state's championship, and our community felt united for the first time in a long time. On the night of the last game (when everyone was convinced that we would be 12-0), we suffered a heartbreaking blow when the opposing team scored a last-second field goal to upset us by 2 points.

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