15th Man Cry

(hmmmmm) Warmup shirt is staying on again tonight Sitting three spots down from

the coach’s line of sight Twelve pairs of sneakers cutting deep into

the gloss While I’m calculating minutes,

counting every single loss My knees are getting stiff in these folding

metal chairs Cheering louder than the crowd just to prove somebody cares

The sweat on my forehead is just from the pre-game run Another

blowout quarter and the damage is all done.

But I’m the 15th man on a 15-man frame Standing up for

every three, but I never touch the game Got a jersey with

my name, got a locker in the back Just a shadow on

the wood, just a body on the track Yeah,

the lights are bright above me,

but the spotlight’s out of reach Just a savior in practice,

and a ghost upon the bench.

(ohhhh) The starter snaps his fingers,

got a cramp inside his calf Coach looks down the line,

passes me, and splits the staff He calls a sophomore up who

hasn’t practiced all the week I just stare down at my laces,

find it hard to even speak Thirty seconds on the shot clock,

twenty seconds on the game The student section’s leaving,

they don’t even know my name I’ve got the playbook memorized,

I know the baseline screens But I’m just an extra actor in

another person’s scenes.

But I’m the 15th man on a 15-man frame Standing up for

every three, but I never touch the game

Got a jersey with my name,

got a locker in the back Just a shadow on the wood,

just a body on the track Yeah,

the lights are bright above me,

but the spotlight’s out of reach Just a savior in practice,

and a ghost upon the bench. (ahhhh)

Then the whistle blows.

Four seconds on the clock.

Coach turns around and yells,

"Hey, get up there on the block." The warmup top comes off,

my heart is in my throat Stepping past the painted line,

out onto the boat The stadium is empty,

the buzzer’s gonna sound But I’m finally standing on the sacred ground.

One second.

Inbound pass.

Ball in my hands.