Just as the lonely fawn awaits the morning dew to moisten its nose on a dry spring morn. Have thou been patiently praying for the arrival of the pitch, the crack of the timber, the smell of the pine. Soak it all in. Sit in it. Feel it? Feels good. Let the game penetrate your body and mind. For the time has come. Glory unto those who spectate, for they shall inherit the win.