Theodore Roethke once said that bad poets imitate, and good poets steal. While the same doesn’t necessarily hold true for bloggers, since this post is mostly a series of short poems I feel like this makes it OK to steal a tradition from my friends at MGoBlog, where each senior is commemorated on Senior Day with his own haiku.
Because I can’t get over the idea it would be bad form to rip Brian off entirely, though, WBE’s tributes are in quatrains. The idea’s the same, though: this is the final time we will watch these players take the field in our stadium and offer us everything they have. Got to honor them somehow.
Two-armed again, it’s fair to say
there’s reasonable cause
for all to fear you now the way
that Bradley Sowell does
The fact I can’t think of a time
I’ve thought about you tells
me just how well you’ve done the work
without which so much fails.
Against the ’08 Vols ’twas clear
that only Saturn V
and punts into the stratosphere
were what kept hope alive.
You don’t just lead by example, you
don’t only “walk the walk,”
The good thing’s that we see it’s true:
your play’s good as the talk.
We’ll always have the Kansas St.
game-winning late TD,
we’ll always have a laugh about
that silly Jarrett Lee
I wish this was a movie, so
with seconds left you’d leap
and intercept the Tide’s last throw–
men everywhere would weep
A man as broad as a grizzly bear,
a wall without a crack,
and strong enough (we know) to wear
a Mountaineer on his back.
Already wrote him a sonnet to say
that yeah, he’s just that great,
so no more praise to offer today
to the best back in the state.
We thank you, Chris: I have to think
without you we would shudder
at watching the S.S. Malzahn sink,
a boat without its rudder.
Called you “Not a blocking tight end,”
and still, I think that’s true:
a blocking, leading, catching tight end–
a winning tight end–are you.