BEFORE THE BIG GAME

melting pot of people burst through the immense gates and a series of asynchronous footsteps twirl skyward through the mahogany stairwells. The towering luminescent bulbs look over us and beam as a slight breeze nods in our direction and the sun waves goodbye. Further downward 70 yards of thick spring grass are barbered to perfection silently awaiting the magic. Ten minutes till the big game.

Soon the heat begins to licks our faces and coils around our bodies like a serpent on its hunt. Sly drops of sweat tumble down hundreds of faces and peel through layers of roughly applied paint. Across me a sea of bodies adorned in red and green synthetics mill about the benches, moving back and forth like waves brushing across ashore. A string of scarlet hats stamped with the very celebrated crest are dotted in heaps all across the stadium. 5 minutes till the big game

I turn to the right, beside me is a young girl, decked in an oversized sea-green jersey and shorts, the kind that stretch like a rubber band. She ploughs through a perfectly innocent bag of potato crisps feeling no need for manner or remorse. She then moves on to lick her fleshy lips and turns her attention to inhaling anything remotely sweet insight. To my left, seated beside me is a man adorning powdered white hair and a matching goatee. A time chisselled face decorated by his blood-flecked eyes that bear the scars of a long-lived life. He sits patiently and calmly wearing an angelic smile, observing the commotion around him. A ferocious grunt beckons my attention to the other end of the stadium. It is all a blur, a furious collision between the rouge and the emerald seem to have the crowd in a fluster. An army of men in black soon arrive to dissolve the mess. 1 minute till the big game.

 A large siren echo’s through the stadium, followed by hoots and trumpets beckoning the game to begin.