About 5 years ago Jaybate posted this. I kept it because of the strong imagery of past times and of anticipation of a special year. Some names and places are different but the message is the same. RCJH
Yeeeeee haaaaaaw!
The floor is painted and just a hint of fresh shellac is in the field house. The nets are tight. The practice court is ready for sweat drops and screeching slides by new tennies.
The hangovers of country club week are receding and the barn parties loom just around the bend. The girls are still showing some alabaster tan lines on the side walks as the boy-men dream of how to meet them.
Self is fired up, through his ring of fire and happier than Johnny Cash ever could be…
Charlie and The Heap have their work clothes and hats on and chin straps buckled out on the synthetic north forty–Harvest heat forging December steel and titanium balls.
The Campanile and Daisy Hill dorms stand watch like Transformers overall.
Yet another senseless invasion looms like a bombing storm beyond the seen horizon–the Kosovar-Ing of Syria counting down in a squal of false flags and drone death.
But on the ground–here–now–the simultaneity of sublimity and season following season.
Custom combines have turned the waving wheat to golden stubble yet again and the leaves of corn and bean fields in the bottoms hang deep green in sunned breeze waiting silently the needle nosed pickers.
Summer fights a losing battle with Fall.
Board rats type goosey with anticipation.
Basketball time.
Pick up the balls.
Team.