If It Were A Game

 

Sure some games have overtime, extra shots and whatnot. Some can even go on forever. But we need to win this. It’s the biggest game yet. The biggest of the big! Us versus Them! NOW!

Baseball: It’s top of the eighth, tied up, on rain delay. Things have already been historic, with two batters from both teams reaching base after striking out in the same inning for the first time since 1939! And not since ’86 (that’s 1886!) have two different squirrels appeared between the bases during consecutive at bats. What a game indeed!

Football: Fourth quarter, eight minutes on the clock, somehow no timeouts. We’re the Brownskins. Our QB was concussed as he dove, cutting the lead to 11. He’s known to play well in the haze. He’s now dead at midfield. Our coaches delay the stretcher.

Soccer: We’re down one. The scoreboard froze at 81:36 like 2 minutes ago, maybe 3. None of the refs are tracking stoppage. They’ll soon agree to 3 minutes more, possibly 4.

Hockey: It’s the third period, three minutes left. Neither team has scored, yet fans relentlessly throw halibut and octopi onto the ice. The players consider trading skates for socks. The Zamboni driver can only smile.

Basketball: Our entire team caught the flu from twitter DMs. Half of them have fouled out. Wrapped in towels, the survivors play.

Lacrosse: We’re rocking our alternate unis, the ones with the feathers and hatchet. They look pretty sweet with the yellow socks. Can’t forget the white cleats! O, we’re down 5 goals. Make that 6. 7!!

Golf: Yes, I know we were up 2 strokes! I know, I know, I know… NEVER rush the approach! One shot at a time, one shot at a time…. That 3-putt though! FUCK!! And now we’re here, staring at sand… Of Course! … But it could be worse, it could be worse, it could be worse… still have holes to play, it could be worse … the sand is here. I recognize the sand. I can’t move the sand. It’s here. It exists no matter what. I recognize the sand and can overcome the sand. The sand does not exist. Just breathe deep, one shot at a time, one shot at a time… listen to those birds… *chirp* *chirp* …what a beautiful day to be alive … Deep breath, one shot at a time, just you and the ball. Just you and that little ball. Not too hard… but a full swing. Let the club do the work. Take the sand with you, a nice easy swing… full contact, let the club do the work. You don’t need to kill it… just you and the ball… nice and easy, like you’re in a barrel… deep breath, arm straight, swivel those hips, like you’re in a barrel… just you and the ball. This sand barely exists. One shot at a time, deep breath… easy swing, arm straight, like you’re in a barrel……….

NASCAR: We’re speeding down a highway of destruction, dodging carnage left and right. And left, and left, and left. Been drafting this dingus longer than he even knows. And I see those squinty mirrors coming up alongside. Time to put some lead in our pep! Burn, baby, burn!

It’s still in our hands

 

James Hartwell volunteers with 350 Louisiana. He likes sports and loves Earth.

Photo courtesy of Scott Ableman via Flickr’s Creative Commons.