The Odds

I'm in a poetry kind of mood the past couple days, today we have a basketball banquet and I figured, what the heck I'll write a poem to give to everyone. It describes our season, well, I hope it does. I don't know, check it out if you want.

We walk in jamming to Aaron Fresh,
and then play some Family Feud,
but all throughout our weird routines,
we are always in the mood.

Thirsty for every win,
our teammates being our heroes,
we played for each other,
long after the clock hit zero.

We barely had a student section,
which made for a small crowd,
but we always had our parents,
and damn could they get loud.

So we never needed recognition,
or a front page cover,
because we had support and love,
and especially one another.

And when you think back to that final game,
remember to not get down,
because McCutcheon along with many others
will never forget about the Southwest side of town.

With little recognition,
and a lot of public doubt,
it seemed that we stood no chance,
that we could not come out.

But every day on the bus,
we knew what we could be,
singing altogether,
in perfect harmony.

And every day we fought together,
shedding tears and sweat,
and all of the goals that we had made,
well, all of those were met.

So call us the underdog,
tell the "Cinderella Story",
say it was luck we don't care,
because either way we ended with glory.