He is a husband and a father

Loved by one and all.

But he is missing in action

When football comes in the fall.

The day of the game

Sees him pawing at the floor.

It is only ten o’clock

His team plays at four.

Seven games start at One

His TV controller never gets cool.

 He is going crazy

Checking the football pool.

Moans and groans float from the den

His friend call to gloat or cry.

Dad defends his choices

With fire in his eye.

At long last his team

Trots across the field.

Dad’s heart fills with joy

He knows they will not yield.

The coin toss is won

The teams start to play.

It soon becomes apparent

It is not his team’s day.

Balls are dropped kicks are shanked

The officials’ calls are bad.

From the den the screaming stills

And out comes good ole dad.

He removes his team’s hat

And puts their beer mug down.

 But we all know he can’t wait

For next week to roll around.

Raymond Morrow