Game 41

​CHI 94               GSW 125

My homeboy Vince
Used to work for a rock star.

Spent most of the year on the road.

And when he returned
We’d gather around
To soak up his warmth
And hear his stories.

One time,
Travelling through Europe,
His rock star pulled some rock star strings
Resulting in this rockstar thing:

A game would be played.

Each team had some
Premier League professionals,
A couple guys from the band,
And a few from the crew.

Vince was in heaven.

He stood guard
In the goal.

They played for hours
And no one kept score.

V lights up
As he tells this story.

He is time travelling.

We are all time travelling.

And then,
As the sun began to set,
One of the pros called out
Next goal wins!

That was all it took.

Certain people
Have a switch,
Flipped by the word win.

Vince shifted his weight to his toes
As the Chelsea player
Lightning bolted
Down the pitch
Towards him.

He guessed right
And dove left.

The ball blasted-off towards him--
Smashing through his arms
And into the goal.

Perfectly timed.
Perfectly placed.

But it didn’t matter.

These guys are the best in the world.

The bruises lasted weeks,
He smiled--

Looking at his forearms
That have since been tattooed.