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Musings on Soccer and Work

We’re a collection of ne’er do wells, lost boys/girls and dreamers whose pastures are playpens measured in white chalk yard sticks 125 paces by 75.

In fits of nostalgia we question our fidelity.

Our hands become worn against the grain. Yet we continue to work the pasture, to sow our hopes and dreams into the field.

It’s true, the same effort doesn’t always yield the same harvest.

Each season comes with its own barren truth and we acquiesce the results as the sun rises and sets.

Each season we change and the results do as well.

One thing must remain constant.

The grass is always greenest where you water it.