Walking down the concrete tunnel
Nerves rattaling the soul with every step
No one talking, everyone thinking, wishing, hoping, and believing
Reaching that sacred place where dreams come true
The floor of the 'Schott'
A light perspiration glistening the forhead of each player
As the family like team gathered around the admired senior leaders
The lights, beating down like a spot light on a stage
We circle up for one last time
Chanting the chant that has led us this far
'Pump it up, go head, go head, pump it up, go head, go head'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
brilliant...i can almost hear the bouncing of basketballs...