Act II, Scene I:
The steps of the Roman Senate.
Enter Polvolius and Tornadus, senators…
… and their entourages.
Polvolius:
Pray, sit you down, dear Tornadus,
And, with no further stay, brocade
The sluggardly masses with tales and augury
Of the skittish Colts and their recent trade
Among the austral quartet who lie alee
In the ancient and revered AFC
Tornadus:
Ah, fair Indianapolis, fixed
At the axis of Amerigo’s namesake
Landmass, hath stay’d progress
Or mayhap moved retrograde
King Irsay the Younger doth spat
Fierce tirades and no little wind
Without avail; Lord Taylor cries for coin
And yea, merits recompense for his toil;
In all the land, his exploits cradling
Yon treasured hogshead see no compeer
Yet he squats among the soily grubs
Polvolius:
‘Tis a snarl not easily sorted
The King’s attendants pule and mutter
Their reputation resideth with that of
Newts and worms, lower yet than phantoms
That dire tread in dread Hades, or Dallas
Tornadus:
Gainsay me not, bold Polvolius!
The starred warriors, sumptuously
Housed in the embrace of genius Jones
Did, at the close of yonder season
Achieve the playoff goal; the Colts, nay;
Left unsaddled, unbridled, unshod
Polvolius
Oh, true, so true. Yet, an unworked jewel
As tall Richardson, albeit a swaddled babe
Upon the field of discord and pad
Where the fear’d two-high defense lurks,
May cause the Hoosier flock to dream
Of dominion o’er the ruddy South
And glory to the azure and godly white
Is it not so?…
Tornadus
…It may be, or not
‘Tis a riddle and a knotty obstacle
To answer and thereby overcome
I fear a wearisome age will pass en largo
Princes will rise and popes depart
Seas boil and the aeried crags themselves
Thrown down to dry and dead dust
Before that hallowed hour arriveth
Polvolius:
By the by, I am enamored of Buckner,
The mountainous Nelson and quick Pittman.
Yet beyond this illustrious triad,
Naught but pups of no impress’d sinew
Master Shane, newly crowned, is enjoined
With heavy labors upon his unwizened brow
I do not begrudge him the monstrous task
Tornadus:
Pfft! He will have gold to ease his troubles
If he not don the chaplet of Victory
Always color commentation beckons
And at the least, troubled Titans and Texans
Brook no overlarge trial-
(A sennet sounds)
Tornadus:
-Ho? Who comes thither?
Polvolius:
Caesar arrives!
It is said he wishes
To alter the broadcast rights once more
Tornadus:
Again?
We must away!
To arms!
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When it comes to sports, it’s all Latin to me. And I’m not so familiar with the plays of William Kicksballe.
Still, this was a fun read.
But other than creating the NFL, what have the Romans ever done for us?
The best poetry I can muster usually starts with “The was a young lady from Wheeling.” Nice work, stobgopper!
I’m no Walt Whitman but I’ll give that one a go……
There was a young lady from Wheeling
Whose neighbours complained at the squealing
She yelped thru the night
Causing dogs to take fright
And left multiple cracks in the ceiling
or
There was a young lady from Wheeling
Whose bunions were most unappealing
Young men would take fright
At the sickening sight
And the smell left everyone reeling
I believe Walt wrote this one:
There was a young lady from Wheeling
Whose skin one day started peeling
She ripped and she tore
And was no longer sore
Since she peeled off all sources of feeling!
Ah yes, all the hallmarks of a true master of the form.
I attended my first NFL game last December.
I wasn’t prepared for the intense tribalism.
Everybody was dressed in 49ers(or Dolphins) colors except for me.
I was wearing a windbreaker that suggested I miss San Francisco’s Jim Harbaugh’s reign. At a jam-packed gift shop, I bought a beanie.
My group went to the same high school as Tua. I tagged along. I forgot that Levi Stadium was in Santa Clara. I didn’t get to experience culture. There was no time to visit MoMA. I missed my chance to see the Diego Rivera, and The New Pornographers perform Whiteout Conditions. The only museum I visited was The 49ers Museum.
These players are gladiators.
Great subtext.
I’m always aware that I’m watching a dangerous sport.
Second the “fun read”.
The tribalism becomes problematic on occasion, as we all well know. I don’t know that I can explain the intense connection one has to a sports team. I was inculcated during early childhood, and now fandom is as much a part of me as a dislike for cooked carrots, or a preference for rhythm and blues over rock.
Stob, you have got some serious creative writing cred. This was great.
Did you ever see the fictional Twitter account of Andrew Luck back in the day? I don’t Twitter or X, but Tom in the adjacent cube would show me the tweets from the fictional Andrew Luck that described the Colts games as if they were Civil War battles. It was amazing and hilarious. I swear, you could have written them.
I will look that up. Thanks, Link!
That. Was. Awesome.
Thanks all for the kind words and indulging my ball game zealotry. mt was more than kind to allow me some leeway to go on about sports.
That could be our new slogan: Leeway-away!