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54-9

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Tim
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since 06-08-99
Posts 1801


0 posted 11-15-1999 10:52 PM       View Profile for Tim   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions  View IP for Tim

The tip-off was impending, a ninth-grade j.v. game,
The stands were nearly empty, 'cause only parents came,
The home team dressed in cardinal red, the visitors in white,
In this Dad's mind, impending doom, foresaw a real long night.

The visitors had yet to win, the home team yet to lose,
If I were but a drinking man, I'd find a shot of booze,
The ball was tossed, the game commenced, the crowd let out a roar,
Before the game was seconds old, the home team first did score.

Half-time came, the game a rout, twenty-eight to four,
The home team with the visitors, was mopping up the floor,
The game resumed, the second half, my daughter had the ball,
Dribbled cross the center line, silence filled the hall.

I rose to yell in booming voice, you have them running scared!!!
Players, coaches and the refs, looked up at me and stared,
I'd like to say the tide was turned, the comeback of all times,
I'm sad to say the final score, fifty-four to nine.

A long ride home that fateful night, as daughter she did pout,
From j.v. games I was retired, father Tim he had struck out.


[This message has been edited by Tim (edited 11-16-1999).]
© Copyright 1999 Tim - All Rights Reserved
Denise
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since 08-22-99
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1 posted 11-15-1999 10:58 PM       View Profile for Denise   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Denise

Tim!! Welcome back!! How have you been? Great poem, of course! I love it!

------------------
Denise

Sally S.
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since 06-07-99
Posts 887
Ohio


2 posted 11-15-1999 11:41 PM       View Profile for Sally S.   Email Sally S.   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Sally S.

awwwwww, DAD!!!! Geez!! LOL
Great poem, Tim.
hoot_owl_rn
Member Patricius
since 07-05-99
Posts 11105
Glen Hope, PA USA


3 posted 11-16-1999 09:42 AM       View Profile for hoot_owl_rn   Email hoot_owl_rn   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit hoot_owl_rn's Home Page   View IP for hoot_owl_rn

Chin up dad, there's always next game
Ohme
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since 07-17-99
Posts 831
Texas


4 posted 11-16-1999 10:28 AM       View Profile for Ohme   Email Ohme   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Ohme

Tim, this reminds me of the way I felt when son first began to play amature hockey.

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Yesterday is history, tomorrow just a mystery. And if today is good to me how could I ask for more?
Seymour Tabin
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since 07-07-99
Posts 32119
Tamarac Fla


5 posted 11-16-1999 10:31 AM       View Profile for Seymour Tabin   Email Seymour Tabin   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Seymour Tabin

Tim,
Well done enjoyed the poem.
Tim
Senior Member
since 06-08-99
Posts 1801


6 posted 11-16-1999 08:00 PM       View Profile for Tim   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Tim

Thank you all. Actually I was allowed to attend games, I was just under strict orders to keep my mouth shut.
Andrew Scott
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since 06-24-99
Posts 2655
Redlands,CA,USA


7 posted 11-16-1999 08:05 PM       View Profile for Andrew Scott   Email Andrew Scott   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Andrew Scott

A well told story, Tim. Thanks for sharing.
Nan
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since 05-20-99
Posts 24426
Cape Cod Massachusetts USA


8 posted 11-16-1999 08:23 PM       View Profile for Nan   Email Nan   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Nan's Home Page   View IP for Nan

LOL - If it's any consolation, they get over it - and then - They even learn to stand up and shout with ya.....
Marge Tindal
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since 11-06-1999
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Florida's Foreverly Shores


9 posted 11-16-1999 08:45 PM       View Profile for Marge Tindal   Email Marge Tindal   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Marge Tindal's Home Page   View IP for Marge Tindal

You scored from the free-throw line with this one, Dad ! Congrats. This mother of four can sure relate to those days when we tried to convince them of the old adage ... 'It's not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game that counts!'
They rolled their eyes and shook their heads at our, obviously, over-stated exuberance at the loss.
Nice job, Tim.

------------------
~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
noles1@totcon.com
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