As I urge
my hefty frame up
and down the court, I reflect
on days long passed…
…days when I would effortlessly glide
around the hardwood.
With perfect anticipation
I would intercept the lazy pass.
With a burst of energy, erupt
swiftly into the open court. Precision.
A simple leap. Gracefully
floating as I would gently guide
the ball off the backboard into
the satisfying swish
of the net.
But now,
as I watch this lazy pass
reach it’s destination successfully.
I realize my talents are buried
deep, trapped, desperately trying to escape
from the crushing weight
that holds them
captive.
My burst of energy
is busy trying to catch its breath.
My precision dribble just
bounced off my foot.
My leap is anything but simple
and my gentle guidance
just clanged one off the backboard.
Fast break?
No thanks. I like my breaks
nice and slow.
Substitution!
Comments