The lights flash across their visors, rain clinks softly off their armor; the respective banners wave proudly ahead of them.
The opposition glares, ready for the attack- behind their leaders' call.
They are loyal to him, and will protect him at any cost, even life or death.
He shouts his commands out for all to hear, though it means nothing to the other guy.
The command is issued; They lunge forward at his call-
blocking the opposition, they guard their man as he runs as fast as his lets will allow- holding tightly on the prize.
At all costs he must get the prize home, he runs men falling all around him, confusion breaks out, limbs flying ever which way- but suddenly he's free.
For the first time he sees the fans breaking out in cheer, releasing a breath they didn't realize they had been holding:
WE SCORED!
They win the game, and at the end- the opposition is nothing more than an average man in a uniform, they shake hands- respect gained, another win under their belt
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