Tag Archives: Sports

Thursday Night Football

There once were some Illinois Bears

Who played the ex-redskins by O’hare.

They punted and punted

And punted and punted

And who the heck actually cares?

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The 11.5th Man

Today I watched a once great team

Catch on fire, but die as steam,

Lead on offense by a bust

Who makes us say “In Smith We Trust.”

On the flip side now I know

How Michael Jackson puts on a show.

Do we suck? Yeah, probably!

But I still love the hawks, so whee!

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This Is Why God Chose Me To Have A Poet’s Salary

If I had a billion dollars

I’d buy a sports franchise

And make a special policy

To only hire guys

With super inappropriate surnames

Like Hitler, Kuntz, White-Powers,

And listen to the commentators

Say their names for hours…

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The Most Romantic Poem Ever That No Woman Will Understand

When my team is 8 and 6

And my fantasy QB gets sick

You’re the RB1 I start

And throw to when the ground is slick.

You’re the treadmill at the gym

In front of the TV

Where I can watch the Yankees lose

With nobody in front of me.

You’re someone I never thought

Was real, but here you are!

Like a white guy who hates frisbee sports

And never tried to learn guitar.

When I hold your hand I feel

Like I am good at math,

And if you asked me nicely

I might even take a bath.

I think you’re pretty naked

Or in a muumuu, though

I doubt there is a clothing item

That could dull your glow.

I would window shop with you

On our anniversary,

And when you sleep, on the toilet’s edge

I aim so you don’t hear me pee.

You smell like guacamole

And when you hold me tight

I forget to pull my belly in

And I know the world’s alright.

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Daddy Is The Child, While The Daddy Is Childish

If I were a professional athlete

Who married a supermodel

And knew my progeny’s eventual genes

Would be cranking out talent full-throttle

I think I would name my son “Daddy”

Just to see the look on some faces

Whenever my son is revealed as the one

Who wins all the games and the races.

“Oh yes, Daddy’s enormous”

All the commentators would say

“And Daddy’s been known to dominate

“Everybody who stands in his way.”

Let’s say Daddy learned to play hockey…

I think that would sound pretty slick:

“Daddy comes quickly towards the goal!

“I love how he handles his stick!”

Daddy could master the breast stroke,

Or hook up with a tight end,

Dribble his ball for a lay-in

Or illegally use his hands “to defend.”

Yes, my athletic son Daddy

Would make even golf fun to watch…

But alas, God made me a poet

And no athlete shall be conceived by my crotch.

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Tennis: 15, Baseball: Love (Football 6 +1 or +2)

The people writing the baseball rulebook

Really wrote down things like:

“When you throw a ball and it isn’t a ball

But it doesn’t get hit it’s a strike.”

But the people who wrote the tennis book

Just smiled, or so says the lore,

When they revealed their brand new way

To calculate the score.

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Unfair Practice

Back when I was an athlete

In high school, I was late

To almost every practice

Which didn’t turn out great.

Coach made me do pushups,

Which would normally be fair

Except my father was the coach

And he’s the one who drove me there.

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Better Than Anything Else On TV

Honestly, the most American sport

That no one’s thought of yet

Would have to be drunk NASCAR

(Or its equivalent)

Where the racers have to drink

A bunch if whiskey sours

Until they cannot walk, and then

Turn left for several hours.

It’s a last-man-standing race

That proves, HD and live,

That it is not a good idea

For one to drink and drive,

And yet some kids will spend their lives

Trying to be a pro.

Years later, in Utopia,

We’ll ask, “Where’d the dummies go?”

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Guest Poem from Al Bundy

If marriage were like football

There would be no single men.

Every year they’d scout for wives

And draft a girl or ten

Then sign them to a contract

For a couple wondrous years

And give them shirts with numbers

And use them to sell beers.

We’d all have favorite teams of wives

Like the Ashleys or the Sophies

Who live in different cities

And try to win us trophies,

And when the best turn 40

(Or sometimes just 34)

We’d trade them off to other teams

And draft a dozen more.

If marriage were like football

Maybe life would be ok,

But instead it seems to be more like

The WNBA.

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Some People Get Paid Millions For This…

If you have a friend who is male

Here’s a game that will never get stale:

Find a sports team or three,

Guess who’ll win, disagree…

You’ll be right half the time without fail!

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