The Best Game of All
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The Best Game of All

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Our clothes drenched and soaked through to our skin
Fighting against the coldest of winds
Our feet are heavy, dragged down by slushy puddles in our shoes
A crash into the mud and we’ve paid our dues
We can’t see anything through the streaking rain
But there’s no gain without the throbbing pain
A sprained ankle or black eye or maybe six
We’re not worried ’cause it’s nothing the doctor can’t fix
We don’t notice the biting cold clawing through our skin
All that matters is our will to win
We don’t notice the puddles that are lakes on our field
We don’t notice the dark grey clouds as the sun’s shield
The goalie’s net and the dirty ball are all we see
We’re all focused on our own team’s victory
It may not lead to my own fortune or fame
But, God, I love this game!