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.
