playing with energy, moving off the ball, communicating in the back, generally wreaking havoc on other teams. We came out in the second half with a vigor and purpose that was lacking to start the game, but we had dug a hole that was too deep to recover from.
It's a long walk from the field to the locker room after a game like that. Some teams may have immediately made excuses, or pointed accusatory fingers, or walked away that night without deciding how to respond to what had just occurred. What I saw when I looked around the locker room, though, was something else. It was anger. Immediate. Startling. Anger. Not with L.A. or with the referees, but with ourselves. We knew we had a bad night. We knew we had something better to offer. We knew we let ourselves down. And from that first moment back in the locker room, we knew that Saturday would be different. The story for Saturday night was written on every one of our faces, and it was as definite as if etched in stone. Like the moments before a thunderstorm breaks, you can sense the tension in the ai, and know that something powerful is about to be unleashed. It was this feeling that followed each of us around for the two days leading up to the match.
Saturday arrived with conflict on our minds. It was thick and swirling, as happens when left to brew. We filed into the locker room with a quiet confidence, each and every one of us, and though the look of anger had subsided, it had only subsided by a degree. We took the field with fire and purpose, and it was evident from the beginning that the storm played out on the field would be a worthy one for remembrance. Thunder rolled through the crowd, and lightning danced across the field. And in 90 minutes, it was done.
The feeling of redemption, of calm, of accomplishment, can only come after engaging the storm, after experiencing it's ferocity. To hold on through the wind and rain and sleet and welcome back the arrival of the sun is to have made a stand. And make a stand, we did. Together with the 24,000 people who crowded the stadium to experience the excitement and drama, we relished the resolution. Together. As one. The only way it is possible.
That's it for this week. I know this is a bit dramatic, but come on. I titled the stinkin' thing "Hollywood." What did you expect?
Creative Writing 101,
Wade
