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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required A week before my senior year at Honeysuckle High School, with me our starting quarterback - who’d never failed a test - The friend of mine who - ever since I’d barely passed the first one -- to keep my dumb ass eligible -- had taken all the rest - Came to me one afternoon and said, “Hey, Mr. Jock-head...you know, without my brains to back you up you wouldn’t have played. It’s time you make it up to me, and all I want from you - is to have you set me up with some hot chick and - get me laid!” “Only super squirrelly broads go for dorks like you,” I told that little bug-eyed nerd. “I don’t this ‘ll work! It’s time you learned,” I poured it on, “it’s buffed out guys like me that babes are actually after. You’re confusing ‘jock’ with ‘jerk’!” Quite incensed, the little weasel called the local paper and had a chat directly with the guy who handled sports. His next-day’s story - “Gridiron Star Academically Challenged” - as far as my eligibility went - nailed me in the shorts! He’d spilled the beans on what he’d done to help improve my grades, fabricating certain facts to mitigate his shame, Dubbing me, ‘the dumbest guy who’d ever touched a football’, and claiming…‘without tutoring...I’d have never played a game!’ Well...I decided, then and there, to hit the books religiously, believing, if I really tried, and never skipped a class... I could raise my grades enough to make the team next year - without the need to guarantee this dork a piece of ***. The coach was not concerned with “smarts”...but it was - higher-ups who made the calls on if a kid could join the team or not. Knowing this, a savvy coach would pair off straight-A students with athletes not allowed to play because of grades they got. For most of those who’d help the ones with - less than brilliant minds - adequate compensation was --- their pride in making sure Their school’s chance for winning games was strengthened by their effort to treat what some call - “jock disease”....a sickness hard to cure --- But not that little ******-head! He’d blown my chance of playing. It seems... because I wouldn’t get him laid...he’d blown a fuse. But gettin’ a little virgin twerp like him a piece o’ tail ain’t the way a guy like me is keen to pay his dues. Studying several hours a week from June ‘til early August - trying hard to ready for when classes would begin - Had me well prepared for school, and - while the grades I got weren’t as good as had I had a tutor they’d have been - I had easily qualified for going out for football. But...while I’d spent the summer working hard to hone my brain, A rumor floating ‘round the school would shock me to the core, and - knowing he’d know - I called the coach and asked him to explain. “What you’ve done to get your grades up makes me proud,” he said...“but something big has happened...that I wasn’t counting on. Despite you’ve been the one and only quarterback we’ve used the past three years, I’m sorry to say...your ‘starting spot’ is gone! “A new kid joined the team this year. The guy’s a four-point-oh! We tried him out at quarterback and - man...that kid can throw! For a guy who hasn’t played before, he’s pickin’ things up fast, and...based on things he said - I think he’s someone that you know! “He said he’s done some tutoring, and, I’m quoting now, ‘for jocks’ - and learned, from being around ‘em, that they’re great at - gettin’ chicks, But tend to be a little dense...comprised - below the eyes - of flesh and blood - and, sadly...just above the eyeballs -- bricks!” A week ago - first scrimmage - the guy who'd stole my spot was going through the paces with the halfbacks and the ends, And as I sat there - on the bench - I couldn’t help but wonder -- just who was this ****-for-brains who’d drawn away my friends? I watched his every move in hopes of seeing him make mistakes...praying for interceptions, or a fumble, or a sack! The truth was slowly sinking in...the way this maestro played...I wasn’t about to get a chance at being “the starter” back! I’d broke my butt for months to guarantee my old position, but when he pulled his helmet off - allowing me to see Who it was who’d ruined my life - I couldn’t believe my eyes. The piece o’ crap who’d beat me out.....was the nerd who’d TUTORED ME! PS: I've now got 4 new Audio-CDs - @ 4 1/2 hours each = (62 diversely varied pieces). They’re listed on EBAY - under - “Mark Stellinga Poetry” - or available by simply contacting me at -- mark@writerofbooks.com -- should those of you who enjoy listening to poems as well as reading them - and particularly those of you that travel - care to be so entertained. (We use safe and simple - PayPal) Cheers, Mark
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