Tag Archives: Football

Rape Culture?

I was the star of my football team

Through high school and beyond.

I was six-foot four, 400 pounds…

When I walked I shook the floor.

When I got to college

I tried out for the offensive line

But apparently “make me a sandwich”

Had been used, and I was declined.

I dieted, I exercised,

I worked both day and night.

I dropped to a mere 250 pounds

And practiced catching right.

I came back my sophomore year

And became the team’s tight end.

I got a jersey and a girlfriend.

I thought my life was on the mend.

But, through football player logic,

I thought some heads needed a dent.

The police disagreed with me

So off to jail I went.

Now four years later I return,

No longer a brawler or deceiver.

You may go to jail a tight end

But you return a wide receiver.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

Why I Love Football

This month we will experience

The NFL’s preseason

In which millionaires hit each other

Deapite the lack of any reason,

And we the fans will cheer

To kick our team’s rival’s posterior

Because we can’t play ourselves

Since we’re genetically inferior.

We’ll sit and eat and fart a bit

And somehow manage to sweat.

At the end half of us will sob

While half say “best preseason yet!”

Then we picture our team’s victory

And order larger pants

With the logo of some other team

That actually has a chance.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

Read This Poem To Your Children… You’ll Thank Me Later

Seahawks run.

Hawks run slowly.

Seahawks run quickly.

Spelling matters.

Patriots suck.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

For Those Who Can’t Wait, There’s Always Wrestling

Today’s a unique day

When tens of millions of men

Are depressed as they begin waiting

To see men in tight pants fighting again.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

And Then There Were Eleven Men Again

I’ve no fondness for New England.

Denver’s nice, I guess.

Cardinals aren’t my favorite birds.

Alas, I must confess

I’ve reached a decisive time:

I’ve stopped seeking out answers.

I’ve abandoned all reason and rhyme.

I just pray for the defeat of the Panthers.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

NFL Commentary

How do you like those Animals?

They’ve got grit and size and speed.

Getting the ball from the QB’s hands

To the receiver’s what they need.

They’ve got guys who make a difference,

They’re just as strong as they seem,

And I think they’ll be successful

If they score more than the other team.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

The Phantom’s Text

With nineteen seconds to play in the fourth

The Phantoms were down by five.

The quarterback was middle-aged

And wanted to feel alive.
He scanned for his receiver

But saw just a wall of men,

So he said a prayer. The ball hit air

And began a spiral spen.
Fat Jerry from the corner store

Leapt with a prayer of his own,

And might have caught that desperate pass,

But he thought he heard his phone.
And as the boal soared past his hands

To a song that hadn’t played,

He knew he’d lost the MVP

And he wasn’t getting laid.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poems

The Tryout

When I was a lad
Just fifteen years old
I wasn’t athletic
(or so I’d been told).

But I planned to defy
What those tellers had seen,
So I went to try out
For the varsity team.

I arrived at the field
As the players warmed up,
While the other try-outers
Put on pads, shoes, and cups.

I suited up quickly
And I followed them out
Of the football locker room,
Impressed with my clout.

Well, as I marched out
Next to guys twice my size
I thought for a moment
“Maybe this isn’t wise.”

But I bucked myself up
Because I had a dream.
Then the coach took the field
And surveyed his team.

“Go stand in a line!”
The football coach roared,
But behind all the anger
He seemed rather bored.

But that boredom faded
Surprisingly quickly
When he spotted me there,
Five feet tall and quite sickly.

“You,” the coach shouted,
“Don’t belong on this team.
You’re twelve inches two short
And four times too lean!”

But I stepped up and told him
“No coach, you’re wrong.
I may be little,
But I’m pretty darn strong,”

And I picked up a football,
All brown, sleek, and hard.
I pumped with my arm
And I tossed it… one yard.

The other kids laughed,
And the coach threw me out.
“Kids these days.
Don’t know what football’s about.”

As I left, I felt stronger,
Despite striking out,
‘Cause I conquered my fear
And I tackled my doubt.

And that night I was happy
And I held my head higher,
Filled with joy and remembrance
Of having slashed coach’s tire.

2 Comments

Filed under Poems