I shouldn’t be thinking about basketball. The Braves and the Astros are tied at one game each in the 2021 World Series. NBA basketball is just underway and college ball begins in a week. The NFL is in full swing but I’m already tired of football. Thankfully, before we know it, March Madness will finally arrive, with the same hoopla as a kid anticipating Santa Claus. I stumbled upon a half-written poem that I started a few years ago when the tournament was cancelled because of Covid. It was like the end of the Earth for a basketball fan like me. In fact, I was on my way to 2020 Spring Training in Scottsdale when the shocking news was announced, along with the end of baseball for awhile. 

As things are beginning to return to the new normal, I took a few minutes to finish that long overdue poem:

March Madness 

March Madness,
Bracket time.
My team just lost,
What a crime.

All my picks,
Have gone awry.
Some years I wonder,
Why even try?

Poor seed,
Little chance.
May I have?
This Big Dance.

At last there are,
Fans in the stands.
Tough pass,
Good hands.

Moving screen,
Bad call.
Flagrant foul,
Jump ball.

Free throws,
Won’t go.
Rimmed out again,
Oh no.

On a roll,
Slam dunk.
Double Dribble,
Scoring slump.

Favorable bounce,
Lucky break.
Spin move,
Head fake.

Tickle The Twine,
Beat the Clock.
Go Team Go,
Cheer Block.

Last second swish,
Cut down the nets.
If your team wins,
Collect your bets.

Lead changes,
Shots won’t fall.
Crowd chant,
“Airball…Airball.”

Buzzer beater,
Full Court Press,
“Over-rated” cries,
Mood depressed!

Another Brick,
Critical Turnover.
“Shining Moment,”
Means It’s over.

Copyright 2021 johnstonwrites.com