The old man loved sports, or a least he did once

But now he’s irritably confused and disappointed

He can’t understand exactly what’s happened

You know, how the new "superstars" have been anointed

He recalls great names like Louis, Robinson, West and Unitas

Giants who strode the earth but were still just plain folks

Guys you could talk to, had similar values, not steroid enhanced

Guys who would laugh at their dad’s corny jokes.

Yes, they made decent money for their time, that’s for sure

But the main thing for them was the game

None had lawyers extorting millions, nor "posses" of syncophant suckups

And when their teams needed them, they always came

Watching playoffs now, the old man feels sorrow

The image of star players is so often bad

Trashed by ruthless, mercenary media and the star’s own immorality

He feels cheated, discouraged and immensely sad

Some role models for kids, he thinks, yes, the world’s gone to hell

No respect for anyone in the press, no matter how talented and good

Paparazzi invading personal lives, lying about remaining icons

Like Lance, Shaquille, and Tiger Wood.

The old man still grumbles but nobody cares

It’s a brave new world of millionaire jock jerks having sordid affairs

Overpaid, over drugged, over egocentric and over babied.

By the way, the other day, the old man threw his TV down the stairs.