As I went for an early, end of week ‘beauty’ run this morning around the perimeter of a local soccer field in the tall, dewy grass, with only the sound of the crickets and a few birds, I looked out over the barren field and thought about that sweet time of the year when football teams all across America would begin fall practice. There are the welcoming sounds of pads and collisions, coaches barking instructions that echo throughout the practice field, the blowing of whistles, and a truant player or two running laps in tall grass around the perimeter of the field because he was late to practice. These are the morning sounds of early August America. And these are when championships are won, not under the lights, and the glitter, and the glitz, but when you have to get up in the morning when you don’t want to and get back out there. No guarantees. Just work.