Rain-slick streets pulsed blue green,
A city holding its breath between plays,
We were strangers threaded through jerseys,
Voices braided into one rough chorus.

I came for the free beer, but stayed
When the room became a living thing,
Elbows knocking ribs and laughter
Spilling like a tipped-over pint.

Then the interception!
The roar tore through us, electric,
And for a few seconds we were not
Taxpayers, baristas, or divorcées,

Just a single animal howling at the sky.
After, fireworks painted the Sound
A drunk man hugged me, while sobbing,
“We’re alive, my friend, we’re alive!”

And I believed him, the way you believe in tides
Or weightlessness right before a leap.
What is sports but an excuse
To remember we have hands

That can hold more than keys?