Coach usually preformed his magic on days like these. He can open your brain and take a look around.

He'd enter like it was his home, wave his wand and throw some pixie dust and our minds would become aligned and synchronized.

We where the best. They where nothing.

His words sounded like gold, with all the riches of the world on the side. We would take every word and break it up until it dissolved our ocean of thoughts

As he preached our, his words gave the facade that our lives where suddenly better, the path to our future was suddenly uncovered and leading up to the holy gates where God himself welcomed us with the 1st place trophy and a college contract.

Buried deep beneath his words the devil himself sat in his home with a bottle of poison and a burning desire to win that would pour into our heart, drain into our veins and become one with our blood.

Together, we took the words and divided them up. Together we would listen. Together we took every word our coach said and carved it into our hearts forever.

Coach usually preformed magic on days like these. He opened our minds and took everything out.