American football is the sport of kings. Never before has one sport drawn together the identity and camaraderie of an entire sovereign nation. Football -- what we call "soccer" in the U.S. -- may have the most widespread fanbase on a worldwide scale, but our nation's football is a beast of our own creation, and we like it that way.

To play football is to prove to oneself that he is of a special breed, made by God to stand out from the rest. Anybody can run. Anybody can throw. Anybody can catch. Anybody can throw themselves into somebody else.

But football is, again, the sport of kings. Kings can do these things as well as paupers can. So how do we separate kings from paupers? It's simple, really. Paupers can do all of the things listed above. Kings do these things with style. With finesse. Kings do these things a thousand times on end and still make them look easy.

Learning to drive

Joyrides on the open road

Asphalt in front of me

For miles on end

I drive my Honda Civic

Passenger seat rides

A/C never really felt very cold

They laugh at my car

Old-school and run-down

I drive my Honda Civic

Radio turned up high

The same seat I sit in as I grow

Drive-thru's with friends

And sometimes women

I drive my Honda Civic

I felt the urge to cry

Nevermind how much I had owed

I spent so much time

Had so many experiences

I crashed my Honda Civic

"I messed up. I'm so sorry."

"The fuck do you mean? You don't just do that to somebody."

"Please. I love you."

"You should have thought about how much you loved me before you decided to throw me under the bus like that! You realize I could have gone to jail because of your bullshit."

"I didn't think --"

"You know damn well you thought about that shit! You did it before three years ago!"

"That was then, though! He meant nothing to me!"

"He must have meant enough for you to get in his head and coerce him into your little game and shit."

"Hey, whoa, what are you doing?"

"I can't believe I actually spent time fucking with you. What the fuck was I thinking?"

"Put my phone down, now! Please!"

"You tricked me. I thought you cared about me. I thought you were my ride-or-die! I thought you had my back!"

"No, stop! No!"

"Too late."

"Why would you throw my phone out the window! What the hell!"

"..."

"Answer me!"

"..."

"Where are you going? Come back here, please! I said I'm sorry!"

"..."

"Hey! What the fuck!? You didn't have to break my phone!"

"You didn't have to break my heart."

Do it.

Just do it. Come on.

You know that thing in the back of your mind.

That unexplored passion that's eating away at you right now.

Right now.

You can feel it.

It's warm, right? In your throat?

Doesn't it feel uncomfortable?

Is it something you've thought about a lot?

Maybe the only thing you think about anymore?

You really, really want to do it.

It is so obvious.

Your body is begging you. Listen to it.

Whatever that thing is that want to do so badly.

Whatever your body is begging for.

Do it.

(As long as it isn't something bad, like murdering somebody. Let's keep it PG.)

I can be still.

I can sit down.

I can stay safe.

But that's not me.

Being still means slowing down.

But I am fast.

Sitting down means taking it easy.

But I prefer a challenge.

Staying safe means leaving it all.

But I like to take part.

This is me.

I am not still.

I do not sit.

I put myself in danger.

Movement is my lifeblood.

Each step I take adds to my story.

Standing up is my voice.

Each person who knows me knows me by what I stand for.

Danger is my salvation.

Each scar on my body makes me feel more alive.

I cannot grow in stasis.

I cannot be seen in a chair.

I cannot live in captivity.

I am wild.