Kell3013

stripped
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2004-04-28 00:58:20 (UTC)

Final Seconds

The nervous team crowds in the sweaty locker room during
the final time-out.
One girl is holding the brand new basketball used for that
game.
She can distinguish the difference from the new smell of
the ball between the perspiration. Which is a passion,
deeper than the sweat, its determination.
The lacer court has an odor like no other.
An odor you learn to love.
Like you love the game.
You can almost smell victory.

As one of the basketball players steps onto the court,
the worn out shoes glide along the floor.
The gnarled hands rest on the bumpy basketball.
She passes the ball in bonds, and bumps into her opponent.
She sprints down the court feeling her legs bound into the
floor.
She posts up against her rival, hands pushing her away.
The ball reaches her hands, and she goes up.
Her enemy slaps her hard across the wrist.

The referees whistle blows to call the foul
The buzzor bounces off the walls, signaling the clock is
stopped for only a few of the precious seconds left in the
game.
Her mind blocks out everything completely.
She hears nothing but her thoughts as they guide her
through the perfect shot.
Swish!
The coach yelles out intructions for the team over the
roaring crowd as they chant in excitment.
The ball is passed inbounds and she dribbles it down the
court hearing only the echo of the ball hitting the
hardwood.

She sees her competitor slack off on defense.
She catches her eyes and her challenger blinks, she wins.
She drives past her faster than you could imagine.
The shiny glass reflects the face coming in for the kill.
Her body is abused, bruises and cuts show proudly.
Only proving she is determined to win.
The lane is clear, her victims left behind starin in
disbelief.
The ball is jammed, the rim is bent, her feet meet the
ground again.

The salty taste of sweat no longer inhabits her mouth.
The blood no longer stings her throat.
Her team has won the championship.
She struts with pride past her opponents.
They now must endure the bitter taste of defeat.
Through all the sweat and blood, her team has proven to be
the best.
Now her team can enjoy the sweet taste of victory.

Yea, I wrote that a little while ago, back in the day when
I still played basketball. A smile came across my face
when i read this because even though I dont play anymore, I
still love the game. And what I really like about this poem
is that each paragraph is one of the five senses. But this
was one of the firsts poems I had ever written, so its a
little on the gay side, but on the other hand, I love it
because its about something I hold close to my heart.


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