Wednesday, April 25, 2018

"Replay" by Yoni Hammer-Kossoy

"Replay" Watercolor on Paper
By J. Artemus Gordon
Yoni Hammer-Kossoy

Outside the night 
was a cold clean sheet
stretched tight.
No one dared say
the only difference
between a last gasp kick
sailing wide by inches
and a fingertip catch
of the fluttering ball
shown over and over
from every possible angle
in slow and slower mo;
between a silent walk-off
and a celebratory pile-on;
between a lover's quarrel
and scorched earth
is a puff of wind.

Poet’s Notes:  Over the years, it has become more difficult for me to be a devoted football fan. Even without diving into controversies over identity politics and/or the physical dangers associated with the game, my main problems boil down to practical ones. First, the geographical distance between where I live and where the games are played make it impractical to watch games in real-time. Second, the simple fact of the matter is that outside of the US, the game called “football” uses a black and white ball and is actually played with a person’s feet. And yet, for big games, I still really enjoy getting together with friends and watching a replay the next day. As long as the beer is cold and no one blurts out any spoilers, it’s almost as good as the real thing.

Editor’s Note:  I've pretty much abandoned watching sports for the reasons Yoni states, but his point regarding the cold beer is well taken.  There is a certain making-a-point-about-the-pointless (pun intended) here that I enjoy, too. 

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