Best Sportsmanship Poems
It is not a conversation you overhear,
Like the questions rolling underfoot,
"Who goes there?".
You can see the grass has told
How tall to grow
To the chicory, dandelions and clover.
At the edge of the pitch
Where competition is stiff,
They grow bigger, taller and bolder;
Yet in each new match, every plant,
Agrees to a height and no taller.
Till in the next field over, where it's wild and fallowed,
It's to the death, all bets are off, and no foul.
2,21,2020
Smile... Shake hands...
Nice game...
Taste defeat...
Coach Belichick must have stumbled
New England gets the Jet’s jumbled
Game signals to read
All exposed—was this deed
An interception play fumbled?
Two tennis pros at Wimbledon,
Competing stroke for stroke,
Played six hours plus and both
Were going, as they say, for broke.
Of course, at last it had to end;
My favorite, sadly, lost.
The winner, though, acknowledged
What the competition cost.
When interviewed, he shook his head
And then apologized
For seeming less enthused than
The reporter had surmised.
He felt for his opponent,
Knowing that he would have been
As devastated if he hadn't
Held on for the win.
Such humbleness was such a sign
Of well-deserved respect
And with roles reversed, the same response
Is what I would expect.
In tight contests,
their front acts of deceit,
not conceding
the worthiest defeat,
rivals flash sour smiles
of ignominies;
even when they crush down
hard on their knees.
Spite and rage behind
their civil masks lurk
as, quietly, they
defiantly sulk,
with crass callousness,
cold calculation;
famishing for fame
and adulation!
After curtain falls on game
Win or lose, smile and shake hands
Anything less than respect;
Just a crying shame!
A dream for many a watch for some
The Olympic journey, Here it comes!!
It was in Paris, few days ago
It rushed a shiver from the head to the toe.
Flags carried through the Seine river
The horse was galloping in the water, even the ring of the high jumper
In the city of love, the flag was hoisted upside down
And all witnessed by the mighty Eiffel Tower.
Starting with the game of Pole Vault
A game not known to many by default
Mondo Duplantis broke the world record
Not only was it the world’s but it was also his own record.
Next is the pride of India, in shooting
Manu Bhaker with double bronze, proving
that doctor and engineer are not the only professions for a women.
Creating history for India on many levels.
Gymnastics is a sport that cannot be forgotten
It was a display of skill and expression.
Simon Biles and Jordan Chiles bow down to the gold medalist,
Showing sportsmanship with a twist.
It was time for the Pakistani athlete to prove his nation’s worth
Arshad Nadeem with a throw of life or death
Creating the new Olympics record in the world of Javelin
Leaving the previous champion with a silver.
For India the well-deserved gold was in question, Sports isn’t all colors
The event of wrestling brought lot of tears
Vinesh Phogat was into the finals
But 100 grams put her back in spirals.
The sport of badminton was not far off
Lakshya Sen with a heartbreaking rip off
Defeating many unexpected, to play the bronze medal match
But placing 4th after almost creating history.
The journey of many ends here
Like Mutaz Barshim who had the gold near
But, is satisfied being the bronze winner
For he is the most decorated high jumper.
The gold dreams of the Indian hockey team thrives
But the journey of Sreejesh, the goalkeeper revives.
The team walks away with bronze
Not only making India proud but also the “state” of Kerala.
A dream for many a watch for some
The Olympic journey, Here it goes!!
It shall last in memories for all, but
it has now left a magnificent show.
Aliya Nujum Navaz
It’s the beginning of best tinker week! Get up! Let’s go! Wake up! Come on!
The rest of the family has already gone!
I jump out of bed, excited of course, who will be the fastest? The best at the fix?
We dash up to the town square, where lies the tinker contest stage.
There are six finalists there, all snappy and sage.
Being eight, I do not understand it fully, but there’s my guy, my Uncle Moley.
Moley is wearing his usual slob outfit, bibbed overalls, and a plaid shirt that is slit.
He gives me a special look, a nod, and a wink. I love him so much, I give him a blink.
It would have been a wink if I had been good at those,
but I am not, and my uncle knows….
This year we are going to do something new, the mayor said.
There are weird boos from some, who are not right in the head.
Each tinker will fix one hundred pots and sixteen pans,
the annoying booing continues from out in the stands.
This is certainly bad sportsmanship, I whisper to my grandpa.
Curtains open to reveal the biggest pile of pots and pans I ever saw.
We stay and watch for a week and a day, some children are collected and grabbed away.
My Uncle Moley is the fastest fixer around, he wins the contest, it is announced all around.
The fastest is not always best, two meanies, Big Sully and Tom, two other tinkers grouse.
I do not care, longing for some sleep in my own nest, in my bed, which is waiting in my house.
Written 12-15-2018
Contest: Tinker, Taylor Sponsor: Julia Ward
There is a desperate bent in Men who lose,
A silent howl that seeks the lie to prove,
That She Loved Him, who otherwise did choose,
And shunned him! Seek with teaspoon seas to move,
And you, my friend, my silent fool, my boy
Will suffer for your faith, for ‘twas ill-placed.
Why can you not believe? Why must you toy
With fantasies? The calms with which you’re graced
Must be your roadstead now – your sails repair!
Pound in the caulk! Reseat the mast and cast
Anchor! From storms rest, now the way is fair!
From hopes to ropes and rigging! Sail on past!
She loved well as she could, but did not want
You! Fool! Let past be passed, hopes no more taunt!
An innocent game of release
made dirty by a devious trick
devised by Sean’s older brother, Brandon.
“Guys, we give up!”
he yelled.
The treeline bustled with life
as kids emerged from the woods;
Cubscouts crawled from the underbrush--
“Just kidding!”
he added as he tagged
the bewildered players
against their protests.
He accidentally
Punch the referee
He bowed down to her level
And apologized his mistakes
He completely withdraw
The physicality of the moment
Brought his anger to zero
And concerted it to humility
Changed his face, bowed his head
And made himself smaller and shorter than her.
In swim trunks, the balls were out.
Each one scored a mighty shout.
digressed to a maul,
in a beachside brawl
Winners were in serious doubt.