Tag Archives: soccer

Stuffing

We played soccer while the turkey slow cooked,
with the Mexicans from the kitchen who
half wanted to celebrate their newfound
Americanness and half were happy
just to have a full day off finally.
We watched football later in the day and
wondered if there were more traditional
sports that could be played, the Pilgrims’ ping-pong,
Columbus’ lacrosse, a Viking type
of tennis, snowballs thrown over the bow
of a long ship after a lengthy trip
into the unknown, some ancient native
game, perhaps, something lost forever to
time and race and smallpox and translation.

Soccer Ball

At center of the pitch, resting gently
on the grass, waiting to be blasted passed
the opposing goalkeeper by either
team. So many hopes and dreams seem to lie,
to rest, on such a small air-bloated sphere.
Bets and bullets placed in hollowed chambers,
all because Colombia face us, or
Celtic meet Rangers on the weekend. It
all begins with little more than, “Don’t use
your hands,” but international demands
raise the stakes and wages, complicating
what started as love of the game. At a
certain age, though, it’s never the same. You’re
unhappy, and of course your team’s to blame.