He had always practiced basketball in the street as a kid growing up.
There was a slight curve in the road by his house
And an ever so shallow dip in slope
As he approached the goal.

And tonight, as he headed in for the game winning layup,
He could swear he felt all that, under his feet again,
The same curve of the road, the bend up the hill, the dip!
Two points! He was home alone! A kid again!
Playing like no one was watching!

And as the crowds roared and champagne poured,
He thought how ironic it was
That as a kid in the street
He'd always played as if a giant crowd were watching him,
And now that they were, he played as if they weren't.

-jenn