"The beat of the ball marks my rhythm, Times like these let you know you are livin', My calves are burning, crying out in pain, Soaring through the air they think I'm insane, A seventeen year old shooting 'till 10 o'clock, they stare, As I sore easily through the air, They ask why I do it, why am I there, Why do I love it so much, why do I care, I cannot say anything to them, they just don't understand, What it's like to look down and not be on land, They don't understand how hard it was to get here, How I went through disappointment, how I went through fear, How I played through injury, serious and not, How I played in the rain, and when it was hot, How I studied and learned the entire game, Just to get to the top, so they would know my name, And so as I stand here, the cold breeze touching my face, I know I belong here, this is my place, So when those people ask why I do this all day, I say, because I love it, I'm here to stay, And so when the day is long overdue, I go home happy, good as new, Because what keeps me going runs in my every vein, It's this undying love, for this perfect game"