To be called ..
~ Grandma is a Honor ~
I have been blessed with 4 Grandchildren
~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb " He is God's Angel ~
~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~
For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
Time passed another gift to see
we are " Mickes" and Loved
Our Dad held the title in Baseball
~ that's how we roll ~
those children are Grandmas hero's
The Irish they love big and Family is everything
The brothers will protect the beautiful sister
~ as many lads will be calling ~
Every time my Grandson hits a home run
There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand
It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs
~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
either baseball or Art ~ you shall find your gift given
These children have been blessed~
~ a beauty to hard to describe
If you think not ~~ Take a look at the Mom
That girl can stop Traffic
after raising three and still~
"Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "
May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell
To play as if today
Is your only chance.
Some say, “It’s just a game.”
Have they done the Victory Dance?
When hard-earned Victory
Was finally at hand,
Have they felt the glory
Raining down from the stands?
To do or not to do….
No one wants to hear, “We tried.”
Effort and dedication will be rewarded…
They'll make the 'magic' that's on your side.
Yes, to fall short is still an option;
But much better to succeed.
Heroes are made and remembered
Only by their deeds.
So, just go out and win.
Give your all to each and every chance.
Persevere and achieve…
And do the Victory Dance.
Dancing all around
Frolicking through fields
Just like you!
Dedicated to every young man bestowed the honor of wearing
the glorious Oklahoma Sooners' Crimson & Cream
Over sixty years, boy and man, I have been a Sooners fan;
And always hoped to be among the truest in the stands.
And while I don’t remember all the Players’ names,
They’re my Heroes, each and every one, because they play the game.
When they’re on the field of battle, my Sooners surely give their all;
And when they’re on the sidelines, just waiting for a Coach’s call;
Visions of Glory must be dancing in their heads;
The Glory of the moment and our cheers, the Glory of playing for
the mighty Big Red.
And for those Sooners who rarely played, whose names were
known only by a few,
Make no mistake my friend, each of them is my Hero too.
Like Soldiers waiting in the ranks, but never called to fight,
They ‘re ready and they’re willing, their spirit and their sacrifice
add to Big Red’s might.
I stand in awe of Sooner Magic. No, I never doubt it.
My Sooners could have never won so many Championships without it.
But don’t misunderstand when I say Sooner Magic won those games;
It was Sooners players who, once again, rose to the occasion and
glorified the name.
Sixty years of college football and my Sooners have won the most.
Their fierce pride and performance inspire this simple toast:
“My Sooners Team goes on and on, different faces, different names;
But my Heroes, Each and Every one, for win or lose…
They play the game.
Fifty years, boy and man, I’ve been a Sooners fan;
And watched thousands of recruits try to make my Sooners Team.
Often, I’ve enviously wondered what it must be like
To be a touted Sooners recruit, living out his dream.
He’d had a great career through high school;
Made good grades, was a football star, played baseball too.
Coach said college recruiters were watching closely;
So, he tried his very best to make his dream come true.
You see, he’d played on the L’il Sooners as a kid;
Started getting serious about the game when he was only eight
Played with older, bigger boys and practiced hard;
Always told his friends, “To be a Sooner, ya gotta play great”.
Oh yes, his parents raised a football player;
And, even more important, a Sooners fan;
But he wanted more, to be a Sooner,
To feel the glory raining down from the stands.
Now, the Sooners’ Head Coach is in his living room.
“Son, you’ve got talent. We think you fit our scheme.
We’re offering you a scholarship, an opportunity
To be an important member of our great Sooners Team”.
His mother smiles her biggest smile.
His father nods proudly and pats him on the knee.
“Lord knows, son, it’s a dream come true.
Go be the very best Sooner you can be”.
He walks into the locker room,
Not quite sure what to expect;
But sure that to play for the Sooners
He will first have to earn respect.
He looks each man straight in the eye -
Other recruits, trainers, assistants, and every coach.
“Be proud, but respectful”, his mother had said;
Your character, more than your performance, must be above reproach”.
His handshake is firm and he smiles.
“Only one chance for a first impression”, his father had said;
"Always put yourself in positive light, on and off the field.
That’s what it will take to play for the mighty Big Red”.
He meets so many other recruits, each one a high school star.
He’s played against a few and knows they share his dream.
And, to a man, each knows before any chance for Glory,
He first must prove worthy to play for this Sooners Team.
He knows a few will fail to meet the coaches’ expectations.
For some, the scout team will be their fate.
Many will suit up, but rarely play.
Only the very best will ever dare to be great.
Coach says, “If every man learns and executes when called on,
Then this team, we Sooners, will win a lot of games;
But, win or lose, if you play hard and give your very best,
You’ll never have to hang your heads in shame”.
“But gentlemen, with or without you, this team will win.
Every season, the Sooners strive to win it All.
So, listen, work hard, and prepare yourselves. Each game is war...
And you must be ready when Victory calls”.
Through grueling practices, he finds himself.
As he walks to class, his closest friends are aches and pains;
But, just the other day, Coach helped him up, smiled, and patted his helmet.
“You’re doin’ fine, son. Keep pushin’. Remember, no pain, no gain”.
He sees his name on the "open scrimmage" roster for the very first time.
It’s a moment he’ll never forget, another milestone in his dream.
He calls his Mom and Dad, knowing they’ll tell his family and his friends.
He hopes they’ll actually see him play, proof he’s made the Team.
As he suits up for the last pre-season open scrimmage,
He wonders if the coaches would really let a freshman play at all;
But Coach puts him in for eight plays against the first team;
He makes two great open-field tackles and intercepts the ball.
He barely hears the roar of the crowd, as the whole defense “gives him five”.
He’s so excited, he forgets to ask if he can keep that ball.
Fans are buzzing, “Did you see that hit”!? “Who is that kid”!?
“Will he red shirt or will Coach let him play this fall”?
He sees his name in the Sunday paper, hears it on local sports.
He’s happy, but he doesn’t let it go to his head.
He keeps his focus and uses it as motivation.
After all, he wants to start one day for the mighty Big Red.
Yes, we’ll hear more of this young recruit.
Perhaps, one day he’ll be the hero of the game.
A seasoned veteran, maybe All Conference or even All American,
Who’s tasted Victory many times and helped glorify the Sooners’ name.
Oh yes, there have been so many who’ve aspired;
But many fewer who’ve actually made our Sooners Team.
They are our heroes, each and every one;
For it’s through their accomplishments, we fans can live the dream.
Billy Vessels, Steve Owens, Billy Sims, and Jason White,
The Selmons, Little Joe, the Boz, Josh Heupel, and “Q”
They, and so many others, were once touted Sooners recruits;
Who set a higher mark and built the Tradition that is OU.
So, c’mon! c’mon! all you great young football players!
Dedicate your talents to OU’s Team and OU’s Fans.
Make Oklahoma’s Owen Field your Field of Dreams,
And feel the Glory raining down from the stands.
O Lord! Thou art my Coach
I shall never be defeated
Strengthen me for this game
As I humble call on your name
Invigorate my heart, mind and body
When I fall, pick me up and energize me
Grant me the tenacity to win every ball
And courage to stand whatever befall
Yea, though my opponents frighten me
Like roaring Lions out of their den
My great Coach always inspires me
Your pep talk! Your word! Uplifts me
Though fear and despair bites me
Like venomous snakes out of the shadow
My Lord is with me everywhere I go
You prepare a strategy to defeat my foe
When the final whistle is blown
And the team heads to the dressing room
May my Lord, the great Coach when He calls my name
Say “Gideon! You played like a Lion, you played the game”
And surely victory, glory and goodness
Will hunt me all the days of my life
And I shall look up to my Coach forever
Walking with me now and ever!
The Poet Preacher © 2014
Ps 18:39 My Coach has fortified me with strength [energy, power, strategy, capability] for the battle [big game, contest, combat]: He has subdued [vanquished, beaten, massacred, overpowered] my opponents.
Copyright 2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Poetic Lyrics By Thomas Lam Hsi
THERE IS ONLY ONE TRUE GOD...THE LORD GOD ALMIGHTY...WHO ALONE CAN
SAVE FROM Satan...who plays 'all' roles...the devil...the 'Lord Jesus'...
the 'Father'...the 'Holy Spirit'...all 'Other Gods'...and 'alien gods'...HE...THE
LORD JESUS CHRIST HIMSELF IS FULLY GOD AND MAN...AND HE ALONE...
IS THE ONLY WAY TO GOD THE FATHER...and to an Actual Heaven!
X is the spot...or IS IT?
When the blood has run dried...is the K OVER?
The HIGHEST...the THINNEST...AIR...HERE...or OVER THERE?
WHY the CRIES and those ECHOES...or SHOULD I CARE?
A NAME...NEVER...EVER...TO BE...PUSHED OVER!
TRY as HARD AS YOU MAY...but WILL IT PAY?
Do you BOTTLE GREATNESS...or DOES IT JUST FLOW?
A SMILING HEART...makes MERRY...but a BITTER HEART...JUST POLLUTES!
IN THE END...a THANKFUL NATION...ALWAYS...SALUTES!
GREATNESS like HONEY...only...A FEW...EVER KNOW!
A WARRIOR'S HEART...BLEEDS...IT NEVER...SIMPLY DIES!
HIS LEGACY...is THEIR TURF...and ON THEIR TURF!
Honor and commitment...ARE THE PRESSES...AND YOURS!
IF you MUST...YOU...PLAY with the SCORES!
Till NEXT SEASON...FOR ME...it's SURF...or a DIFF'RENT TURF [golf]!
It was the Nebraska Corn Huskers annual spring game
When near the end they called out Jack Hoffman's name
A seven year old boy on treatment break from a brain tumor
And today he was going to get the ball and run for an amazing score
Running onto the field 60,00 fans up on their feet
Everyone sensing they were about to see something neat
As Taylor Martinez set his line and turned around to little Jack
With a field of dreams ahead he said okay now you're my running back
Handing him the ball he quickly ran left than scooted back to the right
And on that field their were twenty one other men who joined in with his fight
Making a break into a clearing seeing a whole lot of daylight just ahead
My soul so awake the whole crowd cheering for of all them now he had lead
Over the goal line and carried away in a boisterous parade of celebration
Oh how Jack did shine even with all of the problems that he was facing
I'm glad I got to pray for that little boy hopefully many others do too
Such a special gift in sensing joy in just knowing throughout that it is certainly true
Search: Jack Hoffman Cornhusker
A green sweaty swampy land
Maybe no place for a man
But it is a home to many creatures
Such as our friend's the alligators
Now not so long ago,
In their steamy mysterious habitat
There was a fog so dim it almost made it black
and it had large limb's that hung low on the trees
And each slim blade of grass went an inch above your knees
All gators that lived here
seemed to be very ornary and mean
And it was considered ordinary
To attack their peers With bone crushing teeth
One could ask,
Why are they so mad?
But it's not their fault
It's just the way they were taught how to act
Ever since their speckled eggs hatched
And learned how to make their jaws snap
However, not all gators were like this
There was one who was filled with happiness
He wore a blue hat and a bright orange shirt
Everyone reluctantly called him Albert
Because Albert happened to be completely different
All the other gators kept him at an arm's distance
They called him names and spat in his face
But his joy just never seemed to fade
See Albert had a huge dream
His dream was to be with the humans
As they yelled and screamed
For the local school's winning football team
Out of nothing but sheer excitement,
Albert shared this with the others
But they all laughed even his brothers
So Albert decided right then
to not care about what anyone said
And to pursue his only dream
No matter how long or tough it may be
The next day Albert left that dreary swamp
On mission to prove the nay-sayers wrong
And when he left that dim fog grew so dark
You could not see or hear a big dog's bark
So he made his way to the nearby school
Where he saw not no one, not a single soul
Every building was empty
From the top to bottom floor
The all of a sudden, Albert heard a thundering roar
"Romp!, Stomp!, Chomp!, Welcome to the Swamp!"
He rushed to the football stadium
Where he was met with open arms
He finally felt accepted, safe from abuse and harm
So with his new friends, he rose up in exultation
His life was anew, he was the love of Swamp Nation
The ancient Maya had a game
They called Tut to Tut
A game like soccer
but the ball but the ball
would be passed by the thigh
and not the foot.
They played with a latex rubber ball
that some claim contained a human skull
But what ever you think about the game
it was never dull.
Two teams would play before a temple
On a strip of green
the object of the game
to pass the ball through a hoop made of stone
the Winners were victorious
but for the losers
it wasn't so nice
because they'd chop their heads of
and make them a sacrifice.
Glad I wasn't a coach
beats soccer any day.
''Any one for a game of Tut to Tut''?
Don't all shout at once.
I'm going for the
My heart is in control,
Trying to succeed
I'm a lion
from the ghetto
through the meadow,
not looking for alliance
you can the have science,
because when the
my faith is the
Heart pounding hard
you should win
Not fighting for
I want the game to
Don't care about a
until they bury me
Train all day,
that's how you gain
Talking bad about my team
should be a sin