There is a breed of people out there, unlike the rest. Those who watch sports and look for something more. They want the game to mean something. They want it to matter. Every game offers a blank canvas, whose artists paint with sweat, and blood. It is chaos; controlled, and the relentless pursuit of progress. Of perfection. It is the burden of expectation, and the pain of unkept promises. It is competition, in its purest form. A city, united. A nation, captivated. More than sticks, and bats, and rackets, but instruments. Each shot, each swing, etching a legacy into the fabric of history. It is being remembered. For better, or for worse. There are no scripts, no formulas. Success can’t always be attributed, but it must be recognized. Every stride, pushing the boundaries of human achievement. Sport is alive. Living, breathing, and ever changing. It is in all of us. Every cheer, every tear, is a promise. A promise to those that do more than see, but believe. A promise to you. A promise to all of us. Maybe it is “just a game”.
Or maybe, it’s something more.