Tuesday, September 25, 2012

For Kyle

From August to December
Or January when we’re lucky
Sunshine and sound breeze
Fold into the fickle autumn
That vacillates between
Days of Indian Summer and
Others of unrelenting rain
Eventually giving way to
Dark, too short days of bitter
Whipping wind
With more rain from near any direction
Or an occasional snowfall,
Which is almost a welcome relief

Long drives with predictable radio chatter
We’ll talk a bit; kids and work
But mostly players and the game
What might happen
What is hoped for
And what is feared
We park and walk and talk some more
Tend to our pregame rituals
Eventually arriving at our seats
To once again greet our neighbors,
Our friends;
Jordan, George, Sam and others,
We know more by face than name

The pregame frenzy
Usually finds me wiping tears
Being together, game after game
Year after year
The hope of what might happen
And the acceptance of what does
Shared moments and memories
The game begins
We ride the waves  
The schizophrenic dance of
Winner’s celebrations and losers mutterings
Then its over and we make the walk to the car
And talk about next time


  1. Sharing historical moments
    saying "we were there."
    And wondering why Green Bay
    Would even give a care.