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Question: Is there more than one way to tackle a problem!?
another true story

Tackling a problem, always a way!

The starting defensive tackle that year
for the mighty Fairmount Pheasants
was this eighth grade boy of piss and vim
standing 5’7 and weighing a ‘heavy’ 150!
(Of course the pads made you look bigger!.)

With a senior class of nine and junior twelve
fielding a team meant digging deep
for football was city pride
and the stars were the padded ones
who took the field in gold and blue!.

We were playing a team leading the league
from a town we never liked
Their running back… a bruiser, at least two thirty
with speed too, a regular scoring machine!
We had pride, but points were hard to find!.

On the first play a slant towards my side,
the blocker eluded I charged the hole…well
as the law of physics took over I do remember
seeing sky as I was flying back from that whack
and then a huge hand grabbing the bull!.

That hand belonged to a lanky farm boy named Rog
and once that hand had you, you were tasting dirt!.
Well that bull came to a screeching halt and down
and Rog just looked at me and smiled!.
There are some farm boys you just don’t mess with…

I always did like Rog!.
Www@QuestionHome@Com


Best Answer - Chosen by Asker:
And I always did like your poetry, from the first poem you posted!.

This is a fascinating story with a poetic ending!. Isn't life interesting!?Www@QuestionHome@Com

Reminds me of this poem by James Wright:

Autumn Begins in Martins Ferry, Ohio

In the Shreve High football stadium,
I think of Polacks nursing long beers in Tiltonsville,
And gray faces of Negroes in the blast furnace at Benwood,
And the ruptured night watchman of Wheeling Steel,
Dreaming of heroes!.

All the proud fathers are ashamed to go home!.
Their women cluck like starved pullets,
Dying for love!.

Therefore,
Their sons grow suicidally beautiful
At the beginning of October,
And gallop terribly against each other's bodies!.

Www@QuestionHome@Com

9th grade!.!.!. first practice!.!.!. no contact drill!.!.!. ran 20 ft!. took sharp post route, then sharp pain to the ribs and I twist like pretzel (so much for no contact)!.!.!. leg broken!.!.!. compound fracture, spent the rest of high school under bleachers kissing girls!.!.!. it was an awesome play leading to quite a few touchdowns!.

enjoyed your poem neon!.!.!. you have a way with words!.Www@QuestionHome@Com

Did come up with a really good answer, but somewhere it got losted!.
Ah!.!.!.well, perhaps later!.(Oh, goodie! Sic Rog on that chick!)

(Still laughing, drat you!)Www@QuestionHome@Com

"Hi!",
The excitement of a yong boys life!.
Nice poetic story!.

WELL DONE!
Cheers : )Www@QuestionHome@Com

Back to the future!. It's like Deja view all over again!. Rog is cool with me!Www@QuestionHome@Com

gr8Www@QuestionHome@Com

There's one in every town,on and off the field!.
well done Kudos!.Www@QuestionHome@Com

Great title!. I reckon I like this Rog too!Www@QuestionHome@Com

Takes true grit
to absorb a hit
to the ground!.
Hear that sound!?
Farmboys
like that noise!.
Echoing thud
(plus or minus blood)
Your "Piss and vim"
meant nothing to him
!.!.!.!.obviously

A great story and well told!. I like gridiron football!. The dissociative high octane, high impact, legalised violence means I don't have to get angry and hit anyone - it all happens at the touch of a button!.

Go the Cheeseheads!.

PS somebody please tell me this incident doesn't make Rog a "Pheasant Plucker"Www@QuestionHome@Com