Victories don’t fall from the sky. Somebody’s got to suit up. Somebody’s got to lift and run and vomit and strain and weep. Somebody’s got to stand there in a jersey with salty sweat running down his cheeks and accept your loyalty and your faith. That’s what the boy down on the field is for. I wanted to be him. I wasn’t alone. So many of us who became that boy have been broken because of it. They will put our body in the ground a little earlier than the rest of you. Our tendons might be frayed and our bones might be chipped and our brains might be sitting in a lab somewhere. But man, even if
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