A Mad Struggle
My brother loved March Madness. The NCAA college basketball tourney was made for Jeff's competitive juices. He came up with about ten ways for us to bet and it drove me crazy yesterday as the tourney started this year because I wanted to have as much fun as I did in the past...
Seen a man standing over a dead dog lying by the highway near a ditch. He's looking down kind of puzzled, poking that dog with a stick. Got his car door flung open, standing out on Highway 31. Like if he stood there long enough, that dog'd get up and run.
So we poked the dog with a stick. Jeffy, Millie, Pops, Johnny and Chuckie all came by to choose the teams out of the hat. Sam provided the spark as his enthusiasm for all things betting rivals his uncle. I won the pulling out of the hat pool for the very first time last year. First time Jeff wasn't in it. Coincidence?
Now Mary Lou loved Johnny with a love mean and true. She said, 'Baby I'll work for you every day and bring my money home to you. One day he up and left her and ever since that, she waits down at the end of that dirt road for young Johnny to come back.
Had to work yesterday of course. A trip to Syracuse and back. I had two ears on the games and one ear on the sky. Looking up. Thinking. Longing. Waiting for young Johnny to come back. I wanted to enjoy the games, but it was hard. It was hard.
Take a baby to the river Kyle William they call him. Wash the baby in the water, take away little Kyle's sin. In a whitewash shotgun shack an old man passes away. Take the body to the graveyard and over him they pray. Lord won't you tell us, what does it mean?
I returned to the house and Sam met me at the door with the brackets to make sure I had accounted for each of his correct picks and to trash talk a little about how well he is doing and how stoooopid I was to choose Louisville (I always fall for Pitino).
I felt like I was reliving something. I laughed and counted them with him.
Congregation gathers down by the river side. Preacher stands with a Bible, groom stands waiting for his bride. Congregation gone and the sun sets behind a weeping willow tree. Groom stands alone and watches he river rush on, so effortlessly.
I got swept up in the river of the games in the evening. Just as I'd done every year of my life - without the exception of the tourney two years ago - I had red and black marks on my arms as I filled in the correct responses. So effortlessly.
Struck me kind of funny, funny yeah indeed: how at the end of every hard-earned day people find some reason to believe.
(Thanks of course to Springsteen for the great writing in this blog).
Seen a man standing over a dead dog lying by the highway near a ditch. He's looking down kind of puzzled, poking that dog with a stick. Got his car door flung open, standing out on Highway 31. Like if he stood there long enough, that dog'd get up and run.
So we poked the dog with a stick. Jeffy, Millie, Pops, Johnny and Chuckie all came by to choose the teams out of the hat. Sam provided the spark as his enthusiasm for all things betting rivals his uncle. I won the pulling out of the hat pool for the very first time last year. First time Jeff wasn't in it. Coincidence?
Now Mary Lou loved Johnny with a love mean and true. She said, 'Baby I'll work for you every day and bring my money home to you. One day he up and left her and ever since that, she waits down at the end of that dirt road for young Johnny to come back.
Had to work yesterday of course. A trip to Syracuse and back. I had two ears on the games and one ear on the sky. Looking up. Thinking. Longing. Waiting for young Johnny to come back. I wanted to enjoy the games, but it was hard. It was hard.
Take a baby to the river Kyle William they call him. Wash the baby in the water, take away little Kyle's sin. In a whitewash shotgun shack an old man passes away. Take the body to the graveyard and over him they pray. Lord won't you tell us, what does it mean?
I returned to the house and Sam met me at the door with the brackets to make sure I had accounted for each of his correct picks and to trash talk a little about how well he is doing and how stoooopid I was to choose Louisville (I always fall for Pitino).
I felt like I was reliving something. I laughed and counted them with him.
Congregation gathers down by the river side. Preacher stands with a Bible, groom stands waiting for his bride. Congregation gone and the sun sets behind a weeping willow tree. Groom stands alone and watches he river rush on, so effortlessly.
I got swept up in the river of the games in the evening. Just as I'd done every year of my life - without the exception of the tourney two years ago - I had red and black marks on my arms as I filled in the correct responses. So effortlessly.
Struck me kind of funny, funny yeah indeed: how at the end of every hard-earned day people find some reason to believe.
(Thanks of course to Springsteen for the great writing in this blog).
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