Every afternoon my friend and I lumber into Hesburgh Library's elevator and push the number "13". Our knees buckle underneath the gravitational pull as we rocket above Notre Dame's campus. Stepping onto the cool, waxy floor, we make a beeline for our favorite spot: two desks huddled around a floor-length window, overlooking the stadium and practice fields. From here we can see little figures darting to and fro, and we gaze on with wonder. Those are figures of honor and glory. With our first game this Saturday, our hearts tremble with excitement. The stadium, now empty, will soon roar and pound, the Irish shaking the air with their triumph. Soon all will be forgotten, all but the victorious vaulting of hearts and shouts.
But until then, work must be done.
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