The dream ended,

 

the fantasy broken,

 

even my phone shattered.

 

Everything is too symbolic, too conspicuous.

 

Down the stretch I missed every shot my teammates trusted me to take and made mistakes that I've never made in my entire life.

 

For a long time I thought we were one inch short, so I spent the whole year getting that one inch.  But it turns out we were one foot away, and all the efforts looked diminished.

 

I realize now how much I needed my teammates to bail me out when I struggled during those championship runs in high school.

 

Jesus told us there would be no miracles for this wicked generation, I tried to perform one anyway, and I was struck down.

Final Destination

Did I put up thousands of shots just to go o for five?

Did I reduce the longevity of my knees just to be an inch short of a rebound?

Did I give everything to get first just to settle for second, again?

No.

But when the shot goes up, only the grace of God will allow it to fall through the net.

It will be a struggle, a struggle for victory, something that was never meant to be for man