The clamoring of the feet, the
jawing of the opponent, and the ankle support we all need after a blacktop
affair. The one thing we can all relate towards, whether it’s sports or hard
work, heated feet are something we either relish or we limp on. Blisters,
rashes, and perpetual stinging are the only thing that has tough actin’ tinactin
screaming its name. The constant quick cut of a defensive shift, a deep key cut to either drive the lane or pull up from 15 feet, the heated feet always chatter in the back of our minds.
Why let it talk? Why let it speak to our toughness and allow us the ultimately decide our fate when it's just a layer of skin facing an assault of constant sock warmth creating the skin to bubble? Let it burst, let it bleed, or let your man take it to the hole for another deuce that you can't afford to let him take again.
The game will keep itself warm, but if you let the heat get to you, might as well call it a wrap because your mind has already checked out hours ago. We can't let what's going on below our ankles dictate what's going on in our mind. It isn't the shoes, it isn't the way your shoes are tied, let's face it, look in the mirror.
The true answers lay in you to decide whether those heated feet deserve to bleed, how many layers of skin are you willing to lose? Are you willing to fight to the bone, or are you as shallow as that first layer of skin? From what it looks you're willing to let the heat get to you. Nothing wrong with taking a break postgame, but at this split second, you have a defensive place you need to be, a hop step, or a landing position that will tear a layer of skin whether you like it or not. The only question is now, is it the team you are willing to fight for, or is it that layer of skin that's screaming at you to slow it down. Shallow or deep, we'll find a way to swim, but in this instance, the blister losses, for love will always prevail through to the bone.
Why let it talk? Why let it speak to our toughness and allow us the ultimately decide our fate when it's just a layer of skin facing an assault of constant sock warmth creating the skin to bubble? Let it burst, let it bleed, or let your man take it to the hole for another deuce that you can't afford to let him take again.
The game will keep itself warm, but if you let the heat get to you, might as well call it a wrap because your mind has already checked out hours ago. We can't let what's going on below our ankles dictate what's going on in our mind. It isn't the shoes, it isn't the way your shoes are tied, let's face it, look in the mirror.
The true answers lay in you to decide whether those heated feet deserve to bleed, how many layers of skin are you willing to lose? Are you willing to fight to the bone, or are you as shallow as that first layer of skin? From what it looks you're willing to let the heat get to you. Nothing wrong with taking a break postgame, but at this split second, you have a defensive place you need to be, a hop step, or a landing position that will tear a layer of skin whether you like it or not. The only question is now, is it the team you are willing to fight for, or is it that layer of skin that's screaming at you to slow it down. Shallow or deep, we'll find a way to swim, but in this instance, the blister losses, for love will always prevail through to the bone.
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