For some, life can be that last game played....

For some, life can be that last game played....
I have the honor of being inducted this weekend into my high school's soccer hall of fame. I am humbled by the invitation and the recognition. It has been 29 years since I played soccer for this high school. I began work on this piece of writing not too long ago, and it seems appropriate to release it now. I never touched a soccer ball thinking more than as a young boy's pure pleasure of running after something and chasing a mere ball. I have much respect for the game of football as it is said in Europe. I leave you these words;


The Amateur Athlete


There will always be the last game.
Whether played
to the roar of the arena
filled with spectators,
and athletes of keen skill.


Or that lesser game
played throughout this land–
the outcome all or nothing–
(inconsequential really)–
but integral to those within it.
Who will speak
of it in later days on stools
sipping their drinks,
rolling in the reverie
of that last game;
of how it should
have been played or won.
The re-analysis honed
through liquor and time.


We live for the game.
Whatever the chosen sport.
Men and women of little recognition
confronting the reality of winning, losing
and playing well. Or how might it have been
had they been a little faster, a bit taller
perhaps quicker...