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Poor Mikey
gave everything he had
for fifteen minutes under lights
(and they are expensive lights).
He went down not once but twice
in the same game with the same head
(his only one).

Rules meant to protect him 
from returning to the field did not apply. 
Officials determined he lay there resting 
from a sprint, and his sudden prone position
was not from impact or concussion.

He knew the danger in his sport,
that helmet and pads are not for show.  
He signed a waiver, accepting all responsibility
for injury, death and “outbursts of rage” 
by other players, coaches and referees.
His parents signed it, too, to make it clear
the school would not be liable
should injury or worse occur.

At 5’6” and 160 pounds he was 
David, weaving through 
Goliaths armed for battle.
We sat in the colosseum,
spectators of sport,
and cheered him on,
the beat of drums stirring passions
only a clash of titans can satisfy.

The brilliant play, naked
without the tension
of orchestrated violence,
is not enough.
The threat to quarterback, 
the linemen pushing back,
the fake pass, all are lost
without the crushing weight 
of a six foot, 300 pound tackle,
like going to war 
without airplanes and ships 
or weapons of any sort.  
(What fun is that?)
We’d miss the impassioned 
announcer, breathless in describing 
the mobilization of forces, 
and the welcome distraction from our 
boring lives back home.

His brain was moving 
thirty feet per second
when it slammed into his skull,
full stop,
a direct collision of his helmet
against one opposing his completion. 
“Get up, Mikey.  Get up.” 
The man next to me urged the fallen
player to recover from the blow, as if
by willing it, three pounds of 
brain matter could be restored,
and the physics of smashing 
soft tissue against bone
with a thousand Newtons
could be waved away 
with wishful thinking.

Poor Mikey, 
jersey number 2,
gave everything he had,
for the colors of his team,
and the pride of his school,
while we sat there
with our Roman hearts,
and cheered him on.


Notes: On Friday, September 12, 2014, Michael Trimble, jersey #2, wide receiver for the Walnut Hills High School football team, slammed helmet first against the helmet of a player from Fairfield running in nearly the opposite direction.  He eventually got up and walked off the field, only to return to the game a short time later.  He was knocked down a second time.
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