Poems.

Game 3.

I went to my best friend's third football game a month or two ago.
I came a bit early.
His mother walked by and said hello while I was alone.
Some of my friends came to watch the game,
or just to socialize,
I'm not sure.

I was talking to them in the only play where the boy I came to watch wasn't in.

I made sure he wasn't out there before I took my eyes off the field. 

This player smacked the turf loud enough for me to stop talking in my conversation,
I saw the player stand up and immediately drop back down.

In that amount of time I saw the number, and it was him.
My heart immediately dropped.
He was playing a new position to test it and he got laid out.
The coach had him sit on the bench and had the trainer look at him.

And at that point my friends had left.
I was alone in the stands, the person who I came to watch was hurt, we were losing, and I was worried sick.
I saw him take off his jersey,
shoulder pads,
and undershirt as the trainer
started to do strength tests
to see if anything was broken.
His brother rushed to him, and immediately regretted putting him in as a running back.

I couldn't even focus on the game,
I was just watching him do his
check up with the trainer.

Game three was a disaster.