Monday, February 13, 2012

The Accidental Quarterback (narrative poem)

The Accidental Quarterback

This time around this past year he was bagging

groceries, carrying lumber, mixing

cocktails close to the airport terminal.

Age has started to collect around

him such as the first flurries before

a blizzard he huddles near the

glow of his family for warmth.

Some people say he must get

it together, develop, obtain a real

job ?however the guy only knows

one factor: tossing a pigskin.

In senior high school he would be a mega

star college, an encouraging talent,

however the pros is a game title for mutants

and monsters, as well as his

shoulder injuries throughout the draft.

Sure, the National football league selected him up he

spent fours years scuttling around

the fringes of professional football: exchanged,

hurt, third-string, exchanged, hurt,

cut in boston-bruins Jerseys the team.

So he snags a regular job to pay for the

bills, to difficulty along, doing just

fine, but late during Vancouver Canucks Jerseys the night, once the

boys are sleeping, he senses the

worry in the wife dozing frame.

He stays on the go, keeping

positive, but he listens to the whispers

of passing other people ?saying, Loser,

saying, Has-Been, saying, Cleaned Up,

saying, Nobody, Aspirant, Failure.

The phone call is available in the evening a

gruff militant voice: such-and-such

team lost their starter to some hamstring

injuries back-up is suspended for any

Drunk driving third-stringer includes a stomach bug.

The accidental quarterback kisses

his family and heads for practice inside a

new city, where he hit and bothered,

harangued, harried, chased, chided,

berated and damaged.

The plays are beaten into his brain:

The Choice, The Draw, Reverse Screen,

Bootleg, The Trap, The Sweep,

The Wildcat, the Lengthy Explosive device.

Game day he suits up beside

males he scarcely knows inside a

stadium throbbing with 50,000

delirious fans demanding action,

violence, and bloodstream! Bloodstream! Bloodstream!

His entire household is here, lost in

the crazy ocean of viewers, and

because he emerges with the tunnel

the pressure from the crowd is really a runaway

freight train driving through his skull.

Nervous beyond comprehension,

calm somewhere insidewithin all, the

accidental quarterback inspections his

face-strap and takes the area, his

mind awash Chinese Wholesale Jerseys with potential plays.

The defense squats across from

him red-colored-eyed, sulfur breathing

titans with lascivious grins on

their hungry chops theye coming

for him they need him dead.

Time slows to some crawl everyone else an excellent

thrashing playpen of madness his vision

propagates over the area and that he clears his

mind, his ideas pure, he gesticulates

and barks his instructions, he then yells

HIKE!report=2012-02-13data


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