winning is a beautiful feeling. but i have to confess that winning the first women's 8-on-8 championship (shameless plug, right there) pales in comparison to our semi's win over the rogues.
that game was scoreless after four hours, and both my body and spirit were crying out for rest. but i had no right to admit that i was tired because there were girls who were going both offense and defense. it frustrated me that time and again i couldn't bring my offense into the zone. we'd move, i'd bring them close, only to turn the ball over.
it almost came to a point where i didn't care who won or lost, as long as it meant the end.
but it didn't end, and we had to continue it the week after.
nothing compares to the feeling you get when you throw a long pass right down the middle to your receiver, who catches it perfectly then takes two or so steps to bring the ball into the endzone. that touchdown meant the end of an epic battle.
it's a pure, fierce joy that lasts a few seconds, unadulterated and distilled.
it's a violent happiness that demands release.
it makes you want to yawp barbarically.
it's a bottle of coke shaken like nobody's business.
it's so beyond words that my metaphors are getting messier with each iteration.
WHAAAAAAAAAT'S UP!!! YEAH! YEAH!
the rush is amazing. i mean, c'mon, finishing an article (no matter how hard to write) doesn't inspire fist-pumps, nor does it give you license to jump in the air or roll on the floor.
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