final acceptance speech

It is my great honor to to receive recognition as the first person to reach the appex of this contest and I would like to take a few moments to elaborate on the depths of my gratitude.  Each of us has a little bit of "the babe" in us when we reach down deep enough to touch the spark that activates the resilancy of the human spirit to continue forward in the face of adversary and to push beyond the merely mundane into the realm of unknown possibilities. A celebration of a record breaking streak is very much a celebration of our ownselves as we tackle a future that beckons us towards the miracles of hope and blessings still yet to come. There is more that awaits the adventurous soul that rebukes the boundaries of a humid summer sky and instead reaches for a field of dreams. This ongoing competition has offered people from all walks of life the opportunity to participate in the comemoration of one of sport's history's most noteable legends of athetic precision and endurance that will remain forever emblazoned in the hearts and souls of baseball fans everywhere.  

Which brings us to  next inevitable question of who is your favorite team because without that monumental choice hanging in the balance there would be no "us" versus "them". As a society, we collectively agree on the rudimentary principal that there must always be a division amongst ourselves. The line in the sand that seperates the good guys from the bad ones is what we have determined to be the sole element that keeps our world from falling to pieces. The improbabality of being able to obtain a sense of self identity from a multi faceted perspective has become our holy grail. Lesiure time to indulge in fandom has convinced us that by worshipping at the altar of singularity, the fabric of our lives will never cease to intertwine with the stability of the forces that we rely on to continue our existence. A single voice that opts to cry foul on the unified thought that perhaps loyalty to a person,place, or thing can result in a shallow one dimensional pathway,must thus face the challenge of being ostracisized and ridiculed with the utmost contempt. So, in retrospect, while sports enthusiasts are busy pledging allegiance to a team logo, I have been pre occupied with chewing bubblegum and kicking ass, and I am all out of bubblegum. 

Thus, I must now contemplate what exactly a person should do when said endeavours produce a winning slot in a game known for it's extravagent financial prize.  Regardless of the number of inquiries into this fascinating topic, an unanimous answer repeats itself to infinity. People want to pay off their bills in order to indulge in various forms of hedonistic activities that result in yet more bills. We have submitted ourselves to the noteable fallacy that the level of satisfaction we are able to experience in our lifetime directly corelates to the size of our disposable income. , However, I would like to refute the notion that money, beyond  basic necessities,  is a barrier to anything else. Ingenuity juxatoposed with imagination can provide a much broader gateway to enlightenment. If this fails to make sense , then I would like to formally invite you to take a refresher course in the school of hard knocks. Since it is the only classroom in the world that teaches us what is worth having and what is not. Nirvana is not ours to obtain an answer to but instead to never cease to question. This is the single greates secret of life itself .  It is through that chasm of empitness that I am able to wrestle with my angst and discover the inner core of what makes me tick Invariably. I find myself unable to satiate my curiosity. No amount of money can buy an inquisitive nature but an inquisitive nature can bring untold wealth.

 In conclusion, we must now examine what made the outcome possible in the first place, which is namely, strategy. My game plan exists in what can only be called the "zone" because it is a surreal dimension full of fabricated fatasy and wicked delusions. It is a musical atmosphere that is always populated with a hymn. I have managed to assemble quite  band of proverbial merriman that I like to refer to as my collective chrous of muses.  My drummer is called Persistance and he plays a never ending beat that challenges me to keep up with his rhythm. He stays slouched back in the corner with a few long dark curly locks covering his eyes to make the shadows surrounding him seem even more pronounced. He has this nonchalantly causal way of daring me to look away. He knows that I will stumble and fall if I stray too far from his melody. I have nicknamed my guitarist Possibility because he has a twin sibiling that is called Odds. You would not believe the cantankerous frenzy they create when they switch places. They always hum when they are strumming away on a new song so that I often have difficulty making out the exact words. They often seem amused when I show up in mid tune. I would be remiss if I did not include an almost ghostly figure,  that goes by the moniker of Stats. It took me awhile to figure out that he can shape shift and be very tall and gangly one day and be very short and stout the next. I am not convinced that anyone can be 100 percent certain of what role he plays on stage but it is indeed a pivotal one. I am there to feebly render an attempt at kareoke and there are days when I hit every high note as natually as if the lyrics were written on the back of my hand. On other days, I slink away unable to endure the caterwailing that emanates from a discord of left over lullabies sung in the wrong key.