In courts of wood and sunlit air,
Where laughter rang and deftness dared,
A titan’s name, Ben Johns proclaimed,
With prowess fierce, the game he tamed.
He danced with racquet, swift and spry,
In battles fought beneath the sky,
The pickleball, his partner true,
With every serve, a world anew.
But shadows linger, whispers creep,
In the realm where champions leap.
Today, the news—a sudden break,
A heart once fast now starts to quake.
For handcuffs cold now clasp his wrist,
The echo of the paddle missed.
Amidst the cheers, a heavy sigh,
As hopes and dreams begin to die.
What charges loom, what storm is near?
Speculation, doubt, and fear,
In social feeds, the whispers swirl,
“Is this the end of his bright world?”
For in a game where glory shines,
A fall from grace defies the signs.
Yet life is not a single play—
Sometimes the light can fade to gray.
Behind the walls of victory’s name,
A human heart can bear the same.
Acclaims of fame can veer off course,
While envy rides a dangerous horse.
So let us pause, and breathe, and wait,
For all who stumble, who feel the weight.
In fervent cheers, we forged a kin,
But can we still extend our grins?
For every ace and every fault,
A lesson learned, a truth to vault.
Ben, the player with dreams high-flying,
Is more than just the game—he’s trying.
So as the news sends ripples wide,
Let empathy in our hearts reside.
Let’s gather round, as one we stand,
The pain of one, felt by all the land.
In courts or life, we all will fall,
Yet bound by hope, we rise for all.
For even in the darkest night,
The dawn will break; we’ll seek the light.
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