NOT YOUR FATHER’S NFL

by Ben Rasnic

Gliding with the liquid grace
of the eagle’s wings boldly engraved
into the sides of his reflective
metallic headgear;

with outstretched gloved hands
soaring toward the deepest
corner of end zone, his
taut, sinewy tissues almost burst

from the effort to snare
the oblong pigskin--first securing
a precarious fingertip grip then quickly
cradling to the chest

before landing in a fetal position at the feet
of the man with the black & white
striped shirt frantically thrusting both arms
into air to signal touchdown!

and 6 points for the home team
to which the player responds
by spiking the prize point blank into turf
then breaking into spastic gyrations

that, if just tuning in.
one could only interpret
as some form of ritualistic
ceremonial victory dance

contradicting the curiously subdued
response of the home crowd
& the subtle sarcasm
of color commentators

as the Jumbo-tron scoreboard
juxtaposes the sad-eyed disillusionment
of a freckle faced eight year-old

clad in midnight green
and a final score reading
Redskins twenty-seven, Eagles fourteen.