I come from a place, a quiet place but not so quiet after all.
I feel the mud on the tip of my cleats, my helmet strapped tight on my head.
I come from the cold brisk nights under the lights, the stands loud.
All I hear is the breathing of the kid that is trying to strip me of the ball.
My gloves handling the lacrosse stick maneuvering.
The slaps of the other kid’s spoon beating my shoulder pads.
I come from the rainy days of practice, the short temper of my coach as he makes us run laps.
Mike at the x, Anthony at the wing, Mike passes it to me, I score for the win.

We won our first game with lots of work.
And when we go to Randolph we’ll bring the hurt.
But still with lots of work, we’ll be champs.
We win together, lose together, but we learn to beat that team another day.
I come from lacrosse and the hard work I put in
Because when I do that we always come out with the win.