He came late to the cheering,
grinning like he’d always belonged.
“Can you believe this comeback?”
he asked, jacket crisp and new.
Last season, I sat here alone,
watched losses pile like old laundry.
But now, the team shines gold,
and suddenly, he’s by my side.
His voice rises with every point,
like he’s been practicing for years.
I wonder if loyalty can surface
only when success takes root.
Still, his laughter fills the seats;
his shouts echo my quiet pride.
And I think, maybe love forgives
the timing, so long as it shows.