Sports
Sports fan poetry
October 2011
Sports fan poetry
October 2011
Poetry and sports are an unusual marriage. It’s an interesting form for capturing a moment or a game in a way completely unlike photography, sports journalism, or a highlights show. Here are some of the poetic moments and games of 2011 – so far.
May 25: “The Destruction of Buster Posey”
A 24-year-old ankle,
Cracked/cleaved/sledge-hammered,
Ground under a millstone,
Swept into a cup,
Mixed in cheap beer,
And chugged
By the 26-year-old
Sick-o deviant
(And USF graduate)
Scott Cousins,
Who spends the off-season
Enjoying San Francisco’s fog
(No one’s gonna buy him a drink – ever, ever, ever!);
Point me to his car; I desire to slash his tires.
Was the future
Of the San Francisco Giants
Hung on the bones
Of Buster Posey,
An elegant human Christmas tree of shiny championship ornaments?
Noooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!
There are nine guys on the field,
A dozen in the pen,
Three on the bench,
We are in first place.
Right now the team jet
Is circling the islands,
Brian Sabean balancing a
Telescope in one hand,
Satellite phone in the other,
Scouring the beaches
For a large man with quick hands,
Lounging beside
A frosted white drink
And a plattered pyramid –
The damp remains of three roast chickens –
Searching for a Molina.
Nauseous, his pores dripping cold shock-sweat,
Buster hopped upright,
Refusing the stretcher
Off the field.
Today, 24 champions will walk on,
Taking thorough revenge
In winning, winning, winning!
July 17: “Soccer World Cup Final: The Women are Better”
A perfect team:
No whining, no diving, no hairdressing prissiness –
Unlike the men –
Crisp passing, headers, traps,
A thousand elegant touches;
So what?
They lose to Japan –
In stupid penalty kicks;
Soccer’s a ridiculous game, sort of;
Often, the best team does not prevail,
Echoing life.
August 21: “Giants vs. the Astros: A Losing Streak Threatens to Devastate David B. Flemming”
As Nate Schierholtz is gunned down
At home plate, announcer
David B. Flemming
Sounds
Like he is watching
The Blair Witch Project:
“Ohhhhhh noooooo!”
Moments later,
As the last-place Astros
Load the bases in the ninth,
He shakily intones,
“Affeldt, if he walks Martinez, the game is over...
Odds not good for the Giants here.”
It’s as if David
Is being forced to observe a ferryboat mid-Bay going under,
Children running barefoot toward broken glass,
A minivan hurtling over the guardrail,
The Hindenburg on ignition,
Evel Knievel flopping across the parking lot at Caesar’s Palace,
All at the same instant,
Mouth ajar in a silent scream,
Alone.
(Where is Jon Miller to calm him;
Whither Kruk or Kuip?)
The Giants escape,
But David does not seem more
At ease
Until,
“Sandoval to left center field!
With a two-run bolt!”
As the Giants win, he notes,
“It feels like a really big one!”
Hey Google, hey Facebook:
Figure out a way to e-mail David B. Flemming
A tall martini;
Put it on my tab.
September 1: “The Giants’ Pitchers” (haiku)
Because you’re awesome
Hitters can’t score runs for you;
Awesomeness distracts
September 25: “Toasted Season 2011” (haiku)
“Is it really over?”
The young Giants fan is asking,
“Where are my heroes?”
Steve Hermanos is the author of O Gigantic Victory! Baseball Poems: The 2010 Championship Season. He is a real estate agent at 2200 Union Street. E-mail: steve@ marinatimes.com.
May 25: “The Destruction of Buster Posey”
A 24-year-old ankle,
Cracked/cleaved/sledge-hammered,
Ground under a millstone,
Swept into a cup,
Mixed in cheap beer,
And chugged
By the 26-year-old
Sick-o deviant
(And USF graduate)
Scott Cousins,
Who spends the off-season
Enjoying San Francisco’s fog
(No one’s gonna buy him a drink – ever, ever, ever!);
Point me to his car; I desire to slash his tires.
Was the future
Of the San Francisco Giants
Hung on the bones
Of Buster Posey,
An elegant human Christmas tree of shiny championship ornaments?
Noooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!
There are nine guys on the field,
A dozen in the pen,
Three on the bench,
We are in first place.
Right now the team jet
Is circling the islands,
Brian Sabean balancing a
Telescope in one hand,
Satellite phone in the other,
Scouring the beaches
For a large man with quick hands,
Lounging beside
A frosted white drink
And a plattered pyramid –
The damp remains of three roast chickens –
Searching for a Molina.
Nauseous, his pores dripping cold shock-sweat,
Buster hopped upright,
Refusing the stretcher
Off the field.
Today, 24 champions will walk on,
Taking thorough revenge
In winning, winning, winning!
July 17: “Soccer World Cup Final: The Women are Better”
A perfect team:
No whining, no diving, no hairdressing prissiness –
Unlike the men –
Crisp passing, headers, traps,
A thousand elegant touches;
So what?
They lose to Japan –
In stupid penalty kicks;
Soccer’s a ridiculous game, sort of;
Often, the best team does not prevail,
Echoing life.
August 21: “Giants vs. the Astros: A Losing Streak Threatens to Devastate David B. Flemming”
As Nate Schierholtz is gunned down
At home plate, announcer
David B. Flemming
Sounds
Like he is watching
The Blair Witch Project:
“Ohhhhhh noooooo!”
Moments later,
As the last-place Astros
Load the bases in the ninth,
He shakily intones,
“Affeldt, if he walks Martinez, the game is over...
Odds not good for the Giants here.”
It’s as if David
Is being forced to observe a ferryboat mid-Bay going under,
Children running barefoot toward broken glass,
A minivan hurtling over the guardrail,
The Hindenburg on ignition,
Evel Knievel flopping across the parking lot at Caesar’s Palace,
All at the same instant,
Mouth ajar in a silent scream,
Alone.
(Where is Jon Miller to calm him;
Whither Kruk or Kuip?)
The Giants escape,
But David does not seem more
At ease
Until,
“Sandoval to left center field!
With a two-run bolt!”
As the Giants win, he notes,
“It feels like a really big one!”
Hey Google, hey Facebook:
Figure out a way to e-mail David B. Flemming
A tall martini;
Put it on my tab.
September 1: “The Giants’ Pitchers” (haiku)
Because you’re awesome
Hitters can’t score runs for you;
Awesomeness distracts
September 25: “Toasted Season 2011” (haiku)
“Is it really over?”
The young Giants fan is asking,
“Where are my heroes?”
Steve Hermanos is the author of O Gigantic Victory! Baseball Poems: The 2010 Championship Season. He is a real estate agent at 2200 Union Street. E-mail: steve@ marinatimes.com.
