That feeling he could not quite name was camaraderie

He enjoyed playing in those days. It might have been better, he thought, if there was no pay. As it was, it felt like the team was an argument about money more than it was about the rugby.

He enjoyed playing in those days. It might have been better, he thought, if there was no pay. As it was, it felt like the team was an argument about money more than it was about the rugby — Alison wanted money; the league, the coaches, the players, the venues, the concessions, the owners. Everyone thought there should be major money, and that it should be theirs.
“I just want-ed to play rugby,” Poahi said what felt like a million times. It was his mantra back then.
But the feeling he was chasing did not come just from playing rugby or even mainly from rugby. That feeling he could not quite name was camaraderie. He enjoyed the camaraderie, and he was willing to play as much rugby as it took to feel it.

From Poahi the Lackey

Nobody heard that symphony but him

They lifted with a rhythm, he thought, and without even trying, they formed a percussive symphony.

Poahi liked the sense of brotherhood that came from working out together. He lifted weights wordlessly. The other bouncers did the same. Poahi liked that. They lifted with a rhythm, he thought, and without even trying, they formed a percussive symphony.
By the time he finished his reps, Poahi was jazzed up, and he jumped to his feet off the bench press. The percussive chorus of clacking weights and heaving grunts continued without him. His big round face was crestfallen that nobody paid attention. Nobody felt the same way he did. Nobody heard that symphony but him.

From Poahi the Lackey