cheers - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
When that girl crossed finish line we exploded with cheers. I can't tell you how good it felt to root for something so real, so important. All that training, all those gruelling sessions when she never felt like her goal was even possible, but she did it. She did it. And every one of us gave her every ounce of power in our lungs to let her know how appreciated she is and will always be.
With the cheers come fists in the air and eyes flung wide. We are electrified, awake, soaring to new heights of emotion. Her achievement makes ever one of us want to get on the track, to train. If she can do it, so can we. Maybe not at first, but don't we all suck at new things until we've practiced?
We were all born to win, born to succeed, so to see Ivan burning up the track like a champ elevates us too. Our spirits rise right out of our chests, our shouts of joy echoing around. We cheer for the love of seeing how great our kind can be, that we are capable of the victories that so often only live on our dreams.
Sweat poured down my face. My heart smashed around in my chest. My lungs screamed for air as my feet flew across the court. I watched as the ball slammed against the backboard and rebounded back into the air. I shot forward and leaped up towards it. I grabbed the ball and a shiver erupted through my body. My feet hit the ground and I took off towards the other side. The yellow digits of the clock glared at me from their lofty perch. "5 seconds," they taunted. Tunnel vision set in. A defender sprang in front of me. I faked to the left and spun around them to the right. I hit the top of the key, took a couple more steps, then palming the ball I leaped upwards. My hands gripped the rim and I slammed the ball through the net. The crowd erupted in cheers. Victory.
The cheers erupt like an auditory volcano. It is all quiet one second and then deafening the next, rising to a crescendo and then falling to a trickle before the same nervous tension commands silence once more.
The cheers lift my spirits. We're down on points but our fans haven't given up, they are with us, willing us on. In those cheers are solidarity. They echo around the gymnasium putting the fighting spirit into the players. Then we score and the roof gets raised a few inches, I swear there was sunlight streaming in.
There is a watering of my eyes as I hold my cheers inside, no more is mama hollering on the side-lines okay for my son. It wells up inside along with the pride of seeing the man he's becoming.
The cheers are like a faulty firework, slow to start and rising to a weak explosion before petering out completely. Silent. Nervous.