Shrubbery surrounds my location, my vision sees two score boards reading "Kean- 4" and "Ramapo- 4." You could feel the tension in the air as the timer ticked down. There are five colored lines that they are caged by. You can hear the birds' high pitch chirping cut through the chanting and cheering that filled the stands. The train whistle sounded in the near distance. The vibrations of people stomping their feet were felt through out the metal bleachers. The lacrosse sticks had a loud clacking noise as they were smacked together. People's light chattering was buzzing all around. Crinkling of potato chip bags could be heard to my right, but no evidence was found in the crowd of people. The sun beamed down, warming the stands, but the chill in the breeze over powered the sun's warmth. The clouds grew darker, as the day slipped away. Still the timer counting down, getting closer and closer to the end.
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