Third Place Glory

That winter was rough, to put it plain,
Loss after loss, the same refrain.
Our squirt B2 team, hearts full, legs slow—
A bench of grit, with not much show.

Jake and I, we stood in doubt,
Should we take the Fargo route?
The team was tired, the record bleak,
We feared defeat would steal their streak.

“Maybe we just say it’s canned,”
We whispered low, not what we planned.
Not out of fear, but of the toll—
Protecting hearts was our shared goal.

But something sparked—we changed our mind.
We packed the bags, left doubt behind.
A ragtag crew with nothing owed,
Chasing hope down frozen roads.

In Fargo’s chill, they hit the ice,
With something fierce, something precise.
They passed, they fought, they found their speed,
And every kid played past their need.

Game by game, they rose, they burned,
With every shift, the tide had turned.
No longer just a team who tried—
They played with fire, they played with pride.

Then came the win for third place gold,
A trophy clutched by hands so bold.
We almost robbed them of this climb—
This memory etched in frozen time.

Jake and I just stood and grinned,
Proud of the boys, of where they’d been.
Not for the win or goals they scored,
But how they fought when we ignored.

Sometimes the heart knows more than stats,
More than boards and wins and hats.
And now we know what doubt can miss—
The joy of almost never is.

© 2025 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved.