First Grip

The bright lights hit right above, and suddenly my fingers gave a sharp twitch. No warmup needed. I loosened my wrist, gave my arm a quick flex, and tightened my grip around the gold cup tucked against my chest. The metal felt cool, solid, and real. Beside my boots, a large silver trophy stood firm on the turf surrounded by scattered gold confetti. I planted both feet into the clear stand, balanced my weight, and grinned behind my shades. Game on.