THE WINNING SHOT
They were trailing the wildcats seventy-three to seventy-one
To him it was hopeless they had already won
They took a timeout to make a gameplan
Coach called his number he was the man
His orange number twelve for the Longhornes shining so bright
Now that ball was his he started to think and knew it was his night
The fans were screaming so loudly and clear
It started to get difficult to try to hear
They threw him the ball with a perfect pass
He was thinking of a way to shoot off the glass
He was running up the court to find a lane
He wanted to be a star not someone who’s plain
He set his feet behind the three point line
When he looked at the clock it only read nine
The light shining off his head he knew he was a star
When he looked up, the basket was so far, because of the hockey game the night before,
When he shot the ball, that spot of the court was wet
He slipped in the puddle when he looked up the ball went through the net
He clinched his fist and threw his hand in the air
People were hugging him as tight as a bear
They won the game seventy-three to seventy-four
Knowing the fans would be happy when they trotted out that door.
written 1998
