Walking out of the smoky tunnel,
Ears pop from cheers of the fans.
Snap,
On go the helmets, taking midfield
To meet the men in white and black.
The shiny coin lands for us to choose.
Receive, we declare, as the special teams take the field.

A booming kick, passing through the air,
I cradle the ball into my gut.
One cut, two cut and I’m into the open field.
Spectators roaring I thought I am in the clear,
Slowing down reaching the end,
I get swept out at the knees,
A striking pain shivers up my leg,
Thrashing on the ground, I sit up to try and stop the throbbing.
Trainors rush to my rescue where i cringe in severe pain.

Lifted by the arms of my fellow teammates and trainer,
I hobble off the field till I’m passed off to the cart.
Taken back through the tunnel I once walked through,
Tears are shed knowing I’ll be in dark locker room,
to hear the news of not only a season ender,
but possibly a dream ending injury.
This thought is unbearable,
A disappointment to my fans,
I make my exit in shame.