There is yet some elastic
In this tired old jock –
Enough to toss the ball around
And teach my son Telemachus
The subtle art of looking
Left – while thinking right:
To catch the opposition napping,
To cross them up and leave them
Guessing. Elastic yet to flip
The pages of faded clippings
And narrate tales that live as
Legends: the hours of practice,
The hard fought game,
The occasional moments of glory.
THE POETRY OF THE GAME