Poem of the Week, September 14, 2025

The Game Plan

We’re built on handshakes, laughs, and grit,
Trash talk flying, but all in wit.
From backyards, courts, or fields of green,
We live the game and love the scene.

The jersey’s stained, the cap’s worn through,
A busted shoe still carries you.
It’s not the gear that makes the man,
It’s giving your best, because you can.

We cheer too loud, we joke too much,
We claim that ball was out of touch.
But when the game is said and done,
It’s less the score, more how we’ve won.

Through sweat and smirks, the bond runs deep,
A brotherhood that time will keep.
No need for fame, no need for gold
Just stories better when retold.

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