It takes a lot of personal energy to drive to a game:
The drive itself amidst the others seeking their destinations,
The crowded lot outside the stadium, the fee, the patience
Waiting to get in and find a spot — but then there are
Rewards that make the journey one that is its own reward.
There, hopefully under clear crisp skies, you meet temporary friends
Who feel the hope and thrills of the coming game.
Victory is in the air as is anticipation of a celebration —
When you first arrive. Common chatter is shared
In such a way that one wishes such demeanor could be felt
By us Americans in other fields of life — and we are happy
In the knowledge that what we hope to see will fill us
With the glory that a sporting life can bring. We walk
The parking lot and share our fantasies of the game that is to be,
And stride with pride toward our home field,
Amidst the camaraderie too little known when we are
Elsewhere. Here, at the edge of the parking lot, we prepare
To step over the border to the enchanted atmosphere of
The game, to the field of battle where our heroes will be set
To make their journey to the Promised Land,
At least for this one day . . .
After which we fans, empowered by our hoped-for victory,
Will once again return, hand in hand, a brotherhood and
Sisterhood of cheer-exhausted compatriots,
Back to the parking lot,
Ready to relive the precious moments of the game
And to return home to refresh our focus and our love and our longing
For the day to come when we will happily return
To the parking lot of our dreams.