Nostalgia

The smell of rain
The muddy terrain
With football on the wet grass
A dozen guys going insane

Kicking each other more than the ball
Dodging and dancing in rock-n-roll
Totally lost in the game
With laughter and cheers crushing every wall

Iota of ecstasy painted on each face
Felt like a shower of God's Grace
Oblivious to the surroundings
Enthusiasm climbing much above the base

Soft drizzle played with sweat
Bestowing relief to the wet
Some slipped and skidded
While others trying a goal to set

The fight for water after the games
Calling each other by the funny nicknames
Fully exhausted, yet
Pushing hard for recognition and claims

Tired, back home
Rubbing soap hard to have a foam
To clean the wounds
And shrug off the loam

Those days are still alive
Vibrant and full of jive
Making me nostalgic
Everytime in my mind, they contrive!

The elusive thing is not any ploy
It's something enigmatic, O boy!
It's we played not for success then
But instead, just for JOY...

P.S. It's my second attempt at writing poem. I had a thought which I thought could be best described by a poem.
P.S. This poem tries to distinguish the borderline difference between success and joy. When we have success vs joy, often people choose success, but the reality is - "Success is doing the thing which gives us joy."
P.S. It's not too long, nor too philosophical, I hope you can go through it once and comment!!!