The Big Game

For my eldest son Daniel Jason, who would be 42 now, but will always remain forever young

Youth Football

A son is buried ‘neath Monmouth fields
at the mountain of the little olives
just a short pass from Vince Lombardi
whom I’m sure recruited him by now.

I’ll bet his mom is at the game
every Saturday in October
cheering her young wide receiver
under Coach’s watchful eye.

Comes the chill of Autumn days
I wish I could be at the game
rootin’ for our little man
when Coach Lombardi sends him in

I guess I’ll be there soon enough
the blink of an eye is all we have
to see him run the down and out
to cheers that only ghosts can hear.

.

———————————————–

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About toritto

I was born during year four of the reign of Emperor Tiberius Claudius on the outskirts of the empire in Brooklyn. I married my high school sweetheart, the girl I took to the prom and we were together for forty years until her passing in 2004. We had four kids together and buried two together. I had a successful career in Corporate America (never got rich but made a living) and traveled the world. I am currently retired in the Tampa Bay metro area and live alone. One of my daughters is close by and one within a morning’s drive. They call their pops everyday. I try to write poetry (not very well), and about family. Occasionally I will try a historical piece relating to politics. :-)
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3 Responses to The Big Game

  1. beetleypete says:

    That’s a sad one, Frank. Brought a lump to my cynical old throat mate.
    Best wishes, Pete.

    Like

  2. Wicked witch, that I am, still, I shed tears over this one. Beautiful, absolutely beautiful and written with ‘FEELING’.

    Thank you Toritto!

    Like

  3. Very moving words…sadness for someone so young to move on. Take care…

    Like

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