Home » Poems » Old Buck » I Made It Through the Game

I Made It Through the Game

I made it through the game.

There’s a game comes about
This time every year.
It’s long been an event
That I’ve grown to fear.

It’s the Super Bowl game
Each year it’s the same.
They waste so much money
Seems really a shame.

I watched the opening coin toss
The Bush’s were there.
Barbara in a golf cart
Pres. George a wheel chair.

He’s in very poor health
Hasn’t much of a grip.
He very nearly dropped it,
Then gave it a flip.

They screamed out the opening
National anthem to start.
I think amateur young folks
Sing more from the heart.

I’m not much of a sport fan
So I head for the cellar.
My wife knows my routine
There’s no reason to tell’er.

I wait for some time
Plan to see some half time show
They run high priced ads.
Millions of dollars they will blow

I didn’t notice the belly fat
On the star of the show.
I only notice the ropes
As she flew down below.

That’s all that I saw
Till 8 minutes remained.
A good solid lead
The Falcons had maintained.

Then all hell broke loose
As Brady imagined them loosing
Vince Lombardy would say:
“That’s not of Brady’s choosing”.

Vince often said of his Packers
They can beat any team
It the game goes long enough.
Brady seems hooked to that dream.

The game went into overtime
An unheard of event.
I can’t believe what I’m seeing
Three weeks before lent.

The Patriots win the toss
My son say’s: “Games over”.
The Falcons are tired
They seem “rolling in clover”.

They run and they pass
One play, then another
Brady had been playing
This game for his mother.

There was this one pass
I’m glad that I saw it.
The ball fumbled around
And then the guy caught it.

Mere inches from the ground
The camera was in close.
That player is still laughing
That’s a great one to boast.

Then just a few moments later
All I saw of the last play
Was this demon came rushing
How his body did sway.

The ball crosses the line
By an inch maybe two
If I were a drinker
I’d “throw-down” a few.

Brady say’s as he’s leaving
Donned a “Winners” T shirt
Someone took my jersey
Half a million, that hurts.

But I’ll settle for my ring
And cheers of the fans.
Winning now my 5th time
Was beyond my life’s plans.

So the game is now over,
The wings are all eaten.
The tacos and nachos
Like the Falcons, are beaten.

Written by oldbuck, Feb 8th as he
waited in the cellar for his wife to 
finish a Hawkeye b-b game on BTN

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.