As I approach the long expanse of grass before me I wonder what will become of me and my comrades. The afternoon sun is fading from the sky as we venture into the building we are told to enter. We talk lightly as we prepare for the battle ahead, outcome: unknown. “Anything can happen tonight,” the captain encourages. The time comes and we exit the building. The field is lit by lights that could blind the angels. The moon has replaced the sun and a large crowd has gathered to watch the fight. After our names have been announced and echoed across the stadium, we take our positions on the field. Our eyes meet the enemy’s and soon the whistle is blown; let the battle begin.
The evening was rough and we were behind almost the entire time. Our forces grew weaker; our actions were slow. The final drive had been driven out of us and time was running out. Another shot was taken and our last line of defense failed again. Knowing there was only moments left, despair filled us all. The enemy celebrated its victory. A whistle shrieked through the air– the end had come. The battle was lost. I fell to my knees and clenched the dewy grass on which I had fallen. Frustration flowed around me as disappointed fans disappeared from their seats. I rose from my battlefield and encouraged my comrades to move on; for that is all we can do in life.