JFIFC    $ &%# #"(-90(*6+"#2D26;=@@@&0FKE>J9?@=C  =)#)==================================================PK" }!1AQa"q2#BR$3br %&'()*456789:CDEFGHIJSTUVWXYZcdefghijstuvwxyz w!1AQaq"2B #3Rbr $4%&'()*56789:CDEFGHIJSTUVWXYZcdefghijstuvwxyz ?T*N *zVE|V^,+t=zo3י9;OUHxju9m* ]RAh9gcڸ B"7 ⧕$.}5Rzf4KKö2>w׬ډ>oH6RPlThItf$wh硭mIU9ܲ|)=0/,HC1W |ʧat2GRK|? >ک++ sadness, pride and regret at the same time. Tears were still coming from my eyes as I took the tape off my arms and took off my cleats for the last time. We were conference champs, state semifinalists, and we had a record of 11-2, and yet it wasn't enough. We didn't want it to end. <br>That day wasn't supposed to come; we had worked so hard as a class for so many years. I think back to the months we came in at six-thirty every morning to work out. To the summer lifting and running, to the long practices in August, and to the cold nights in November. I still remember then being the most fulfilling and fun times of our lives; we made lifelong bonds on the field and in that weight room. We truly were brothers, and we had worked for every inch we got.<br>I remember the days and weeks to follow, thinking about how football was out of my life forever. Little did I realize that football and the work ethic I got through it would be something that I would use for the rest of my life. Every rep and set in the