“There are no written ways to arrive at this.”
It can described like the aroma of homemade soup, when you’re cursed with a fever .
It can described like the feeling of seeing your love.
The dopamine, rushing through your veins like dolphins in the Atlantic.
The love, like what a patriot feels for a country.
The passion, like what a mother feels for her newborn for the first time.
The hate, like what a soldier feels for a traitor.
The joy. like what a gambler feels for a jackpot.
The beauty of the game cannot be explained.
What the naked eye might see as a rubber sphere.
Holds to the heart what is very dear.
The ups and downs bring the value.
Even with the wins being rare, it remains our forever love.
The sport of champions, the sport of failures.
The sport of love, hate, joy, dopamine, and passion.