Tag Archives: Sports

If You Sell Love to Haters, Don’t Ask Why No One Is Buying

To those who make their homes beneath rocks

I offer this poetic plea

Regarding demonstrations by civilians and jocks

With the hopes you will listen to me.

Yes, it’s important all people are equals

And treated with love and respect.

Yes, there’s been push-back, misinterpretation,

But, frankly, what did you expect?

The symbols with which you display your ideals

May change some opinions for sure;

If I spit on a puppy and say “Yay world peace!”

You might doubt my intentions are pure.

Likewise if you stand for freedom and justice

By kneeling in front of a flag,

By fleeing from songs about love for our nation

Some people will think you’re a drag.

If instead when the anthem is sung by our siblings

And you stand to honor our banner

Those who disparage your reason for protest

No longer disparage its manner.

And after you’ve captured the ear of your rivals

You show them the point you want made

You swapped some derision for some indecision

And that is a valuable trade.

To those who were hateful and know are uncertain

You do not decry them as bad

But make your point clear and then disappear.

Don’t be an unskippable ad!

Don’t show what’s troublesome, worrying, scary

By showing disdain for what’s good.

Instead show you’re with us, then raise our awareness

And maybe we’ll do as we should.

And if we keep not being how you would wish us,

Disrespect you, or call you a name,

Consider the best way to make the world better

Is simply to not do the same.

I don’t ask this often, but if you agree with my perspective, please share this poem.

Share it with those who think as you do, because they’ll likely enjoy it too.

Share it with those with whom you disagree, for that is the path to the change we must see.

Share it with those who will argue and fight. You may not kill darkness, but you can shine a light.

Share it with those with whom you would be one, for we share the same air, the same earth, the same sun.

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But Hockey? There’s A Great Sport!

Soccer’s like “The Notebook:”

I’ve never watched for more than a minute,

I consider it nap-time

And don’t like anyone in it.

Soccer and I

Are also much alike

In that no one ever scores

And the entertainment it creates has unsatisfying conclusions.

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If Only His Parents Named Him Neil…

Greg is 17-foot-3,

Runs faster than the eye can see,

And more impressive than Greg’s size is

How Greg’s won four Nobel Prizes.

Greg is just 18 years old.

All Greg touches turns to gold.

Greg’s backstory’s very tragical

Which makes Greg seem even more magical.

Greg declared the other day

Greg wants to play in the NBA.

The coaches laughed ’til they soiled their pants…

Greg once said, “Cops are fine,” so Greg never stood a chance.

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SERIOUSLY?! DOST THOU KIDDETH THY LORD?!

Somewhere in Heaven

The Gods all look down

At the biggest of cities

And the tiniest town,

They watch people playin’

And workin’ and sleepin’

(It’s okay that they watch us

‘Cause Gods can’t be creepin’).

They shout for our victories,

Sob for our failings,

But one thing holds constant

For all of their wailings:

All Gods will swear

On all that is pious

That those damned referees

Are all fuckin’ biased.

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How To Choose A Favorite Sports Team

If their best player’s white

You’re not doing it right.

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Sorry Europe, South America, And Basically Everywhere Else, But You Have Terrible Taste

There’s an argument in the USA

About soccer teams and equal pay

‘Cause men got paid more overall

Despite the women winning all the way.

The other side of this tirade

Says the male players are underpaid

Because the revenue their team produced

Was 55 times more than the women’s team made.

Now how revenue or standings weigh

On the importance scale I can’t say.

The real question is, in 2019,

Why won’t this stupid sport just go away?

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Now That’s A Team That’s Cooking With Gas

Vikings killed a lot of folks;

Bears and lions too.

Warriors kill a lot of folks

‘Cause that’s just what they do.

Tigers, dolphins, bulldogs, eagles

Kill lots of stuff, and yet

No high school that I know of

Has picked a Hitler mascot yet.

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Dear [Insert Any WNBA Team Here, If You Can]

I think that women’s basketball

And the WNBA

Deserve credit for helping

So many girls admit they’re gay.

But when they start demanding

More fair and equal pays

It behooves them to remember

That you can’t have both these days.

See, the typical NBA guy

Eats 2,000 pounds per day

Is 12 feet tall and has a trunk

And their skin is tough and gray.

The typical WNBA-er

Is about the same, you see

Except no one will pay to see her

‘Cause she’s only five-foot-three.

At one game we ask “do you think

“Shaquille can dunk on Mike?”

At the other game we wonder

“You think that one’s not a dyke?”

But if you score a hundred points

In every single game

And hire a player anyone

Would recognize by name

And sell out any contest

Then we’ll pay you like Jeff Teague.

Until you do, just be content

That you still have a league.

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The College Athlete

As I jogged through the locker room door

Coach was shouting “This is what we play for!”

I said “What coach means to say

“Is ‘this is that for which we play.'”

I guess that questioning coach’s decision

To end a cheer with a preposition

Resulted in, so it would seem,

My no longer being on the team.

While you might expect, after my blunder,

That I hope, in my absence, the team goes under

I don’t seek vengeance for my woes…

And it’s “In my absence I hope under is where my team goes.”

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When You Can Watch Something Other Than Baseball And Golf Again

‘Twas the week before football

And all through the States

Everyone outside Boston

Came to terms with their fates.

So many Don’taes,

Tyrones, and Lamars

Checked if Wendy’s needed

Someone who could lift cars.

Meanwhile those lucky

To remain on their teams

Prayed the ACL gods

Would not ruin their dreams.

The fans were all cozy

Wrapped up on their couches

While the TV says who’ll be

The sleepers and slouches.

And a tenth of a billion

Mostly female folks

Didn’t see the appeal

Of tackling blokes,

Yet still two-hundred-million

Pulled on overpriced shirts

With the last name of someone

Whose whole body hurts.

They’ll sit back to watch

As the combat begins.

They’ll be happy as long

As their animal wins.

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