be a gift from older sis
Who’d stay at home and tend the baby
Let her parents go to dinner
See a movie, sit with friends
Mellow out ‘til talking end
but no,
Big sister was no help at all.
She’d discovered basketball.
“But in all fairness,” said the father
“it is a sight to truly see
Her reactions to the pass
Or the fast break instantly
Upon the steal the action shifts
Ten people plus the referee
To the opposition’s goal
Where up it goes the perfect sphere
Never touching rotten metal
Thundering approval hear
The crowds explode in home court favor
Instant symbol of success
Victory—‘thou art so sweet!’—
She loves it. I never knew a girl
Could strive so forcefully to win
A battle. But what’s the point?
Where will this lead her?
Will she get a better job?
Will it help her find a man?
Lifting weights and up the stairs
Of the stadium she ran
All summer long instead of lying
In the sun to get a tan.
An entire year of preparation
Gone for naught she’d have you think
On the nights they sometimes
Drink the bitter cup of close defeat
Through the darkened early morning
Angry sobs of stark depression
Vows of vengeance whispered clear
From her room we always hear
Our daughter takes the victory
quite seriously.”
“And so she should,”
Returns the mother;
“Nothing’s wrong with winning ways.
It’s only good though if it’s done
Within the boundaries shown by law
To guide humanity’s affairs
No degenerating into chaos
Such as rules the cats and bears
Out there in the jungle wild
Where naked men do toss their spears
At everything that moves,
or rustles leaves.
I appreciate the civilized
The church important to our lives
Good food, good meat, good
Things to eat, sidewalks
Safe to stroll at night
Made so by a working streetlight
Cars obey the traffic signs
Never speeding on arterials
In parking lots they heed the lines
Take two places—that’s heretical
Breakfast, lunch, and later supper
Three good meals a day I fix
Her clothes are clean as they can be
And ironed and pressed for all to see
How fine a parent that I am
And likewise for her father, Jim.”
She smiled; and so did he.
“Lots of Christian education
Goes into our home’s religion
Prayers we say before each meal
Knowing that our God is real
And working daily benefits
Deals with sinners, stills the pain
Of parents with a cross to bear
Who suffer through a private hell.”
“I should explain,” said father Jim
“My wife and I now live in grief.
Our only daughter is a thief!”
Raucous laughter split the room
By the fireplace choked on beer
Buried face in mock remorse
Handkerchiefs to wipe the tears.
The lioness excused herself
The others shook their heads in wonder
Waiting for the rest to come
from Jim.
Said the father:
“I’d really not believe it
If with my own eyes I’d not truly seen it;
My favorite is the reverse pivot!
I love her at the other’s baseline
Coaches yelling bursting lungs
‘Press! Press!’ waving arms
Frantic with the one-point lead
Last ten seconds of the game
There she is a jumping jack
You just know she’ll tip it out
Or to a friend like Mary Lou
Who pops it in to seal the fate
Of those who put their skills on line
Against the five—their work divine!”
“She has the grand anticipation
Knowing in her mind the track
Ballistics are her special forte
Lose the ball she’ll get it back.
Cunning in her brain’s computer
Analyzing patterns never known
By those who live them high speed chase
Mistakenly the ball is thrown
Into traffic—interception
Tipped away and suddenly
The whole complexion shifts!
She is determined, that I’ll say
To any person that I meet
Who knows her picture from the papers
Strangers down there on the street
Say hello to her and turn
To follow with admiring eyes
Normal clothes, normal hair, normal
Speed for her slow motion
In her letter jacket woven
Leather, wool, and some chenille
As she wanders through the ville
on Saturdays and Sundays.”
(Conclusion)
So what’s to come of basketball,
Does it really have a meaning?
Sum it up, host and hostess
Put the icing on the evening.
But the lioness demurred
“This time of night there’s no intrusion
On his theoretical conclusions
Speak, oh ‘master’ of this house
Be brave, now, are you man or mouse?
Tell us how to make some sense
Out of bits and larger pieces
Of our daughters’ chosen lives
Which they hold so out of reach
From all the general public fans
While they display for all to see
Results of campaigns far and wide
Up and down the Interstate
To the cities’ high school gyms
Where gathers there to watch the debacle
When our team pulls out a miracle
Of one more win, a jewel in crown
The conf’rence championship to own
Tell us, ‘master,’ reconcile
This subject academics think
so vile!
Basketball! What should we make of basketball?”
He smiled and very deep in thought
From the ancient hearthside brought
His ideas into the mystic circle.
“When I survey the ways of life
Upon this planet Earth so fair
I cannot help but see the strife
That washes on her face as war.
Yet there among the lesser creatures
Social actions dictate functions
Which are inherited, I am told
By some books which I have read
From their parents back in time
So far the lineage seems to lead
Early on volcanoes spewed
Molten lava, then it rained
To cool the Earth and wash away
To oceans now forever salty
‘Twas in these primeval times
Advantages of social life
Demonstrated molecules
Then larger larger aggregations
Of the soupy ocean scum
That finally spawned the noble line
ending with the human.
But now it’s everywhere we look
People do
ing things together
I do wonder if we took
Examples from the yon and hither
And examined them so closely
Would we discover then at last
That the fairest of them all
Was a sport called ‘basketball’?
Yes!
Now let me explain
My train of thought.
Take all the species live in groups
Baboons doing well in troops
Apes, chimpanzees, but a few
Of the familiar higher forms
But there is a much more common
Distribution of communal life
Among the creatures very small
That sheds some light on basketball.
Termites live by tens of thousands
Accomplishing that wondrous architecture
Of their mounds and tunnels complex
Need a map to find the Centrex
Bees and wasps construct their hives
Just to live sylvatic lives
Of eating and some reproduction
when the need arises.
Yet in all these interesting species
There is a characteristic number
Which functions best in situations
Requiring group activity.
Beyond that optimal quantity
The social unit splits in two
Or undergoes development
Of queens and drones to start anew
the social life so valued.
But in the human what has happened?
There is no need to tell you things
New and strange to well-read ears
You know already of our fears:
Nuclear annihilation
Industrial pollution
Toxic wastes and toxic shocks
The Pope and overpopulation
Taxes voted in by Congress
Legislators never ask us
Our opinions of this business
We have to tell them how to do
The job for us a little better
But the reply, when it comes
Bears the signs of that form letter.
On down therein to lower levels
Incompetence is rampant through
State agencies and City Council
It’s only when you get all the way
Down to your local PTA
And sometimes, you know, not even then
Can humans work in harmony
For the common good.”
The room was silent,
Contemplative.
The guests did not expect
So devastating an attack
Upon their sacred institutions.
“Now, my theory is this:
There is for every kind of thing
That walks the universe a number
Optimal beyond it which
They cannot function with the beauty
Of a simple task well done, but
Seem to botch it up so badly
Every member individual
Of this collective mass so large
Feels disappointed, smarter, better
Able making judgments
Which affect the common good
Than those that they elected.
What is that number for the human?
Come on, now, don’t be naïve;
You know it in your heart:
the number’s five!
Five people is the maximum
This species can for all time ever
Make collective progress toward
A goal upon which all agree
And never seeking to deny
That what the entire wants is
Is still the same as member parts’
Desires and great objectives!”
His audience was held in rapture
By conclusions so insightful
That friends of lesser confidence
Could not help but be so spiteful
Of his philosophical abilities!
“And what do humans do in groups
Of five that equals those accomplishments
Relative sophistication
To the level of the termite?
I need not say but yet I shall!
The human species is genetic
Programmed, restricted, if you will
The highest human trait of all
Is this endeavor, what’s it called?”
In unison his guests replied
“We know it well! It’s basketball!”
**********
Return to Table of Contents
**********
Other works by John Janovy, Jr.
Non-fiction:
Fiction:
The Ginkgo: An Intellectual and Visionary Coming-of-Age (e-book on smashwords.com and other e-readers; trade paperback from createspace.com/3382861)
Tuskers (e-book on smashwords.com and other e-readers; trade paperback from createspace.com/3462041)
Tuskers, The Movie (film script; e-book on smashwords.com and other e-readers)
Conversations between God and Satan: Held at the Crescent Moon Coffee House in Lincoln, Nebraska, USA, Earth, Milky Way (e-book on smashwords.com and other e-readers; trade paperback from createspace.com/3431482)
Dinkle’s Life: A Spiritual Biography (e-book on smashwords.com and other e-readers)
Christian Zombie: A Tale of Sin and Redemption (e-book on smashwords.com and other e-readers)
Be Careful, Dr. Renner! (e-book on smashwords.com and other e-readers)
**********
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