There is something to be said,
something grand, in fact,
for wanting it more,
wanting it bad,
wanting it so bad that you will jump up high,
that you will do things beyond your reach,
beyond your control,
funded only by adrenaline and a love of the game,
and nothing more than that,
and nodding your head in agreement,
knowing that luck is threaded in and out of it all,
but perhaps it is not the make or break of any of this,
perhaps it's just the icing,
There are things to be said about everything in this life,
but maybe the unfulfilled stay that way,
until they don't,
until they get very hungry,
and salivate for victory,
knowing that it belongs to them and no one else,
maybe,
or maybe it is just a game,
no,
surely Saturdays are more than that,
I know it in my bones,
deep down here,
where I can taste them,
all the aspirations dancing on their horizon---
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