Author Archive
With the playoffs and Superbowl looming in our immediate future and Belichick ending his reign as a Patriot, it seems the right time for a football post. Football has been making numerous mistakes in recent months with questionable NFL officiating and the fiasco with Michigan and coach Jim Harbaugh that was blatantly unfair, biased, and embarrassing. So, let me take you back in time to review a few old time slight-of-hand coaching maneuvers when the game was more fun and not controlled by the almighty dollar and the media’s talking heads.
Johnny Heisman, for whom the Heisman Trophy is named, was one of football’s most inventive coaches. One of his oddest inventions was the old hidden ball trick. One day in 1895, a player asked him if it was illegal to hide the ball during a play. He knew it wasn’t against the rules, but how could it be done?
Two of Heisman’s players at Auburn, Walt Shafer and “Tick” Tichenor, thought the ball could be hidden under a running backs jersey, and they helped devise a play. As the ball was snapped to Tichenor, the rest of the team would drop back and form a circle around him. Then Tichenor would slip the ball under his jersey, and he would drop to one knee. The team would run to the right and the defenders would follow them. Then Tichenor would get up and run the other way. Auburn tried the trick against Vanderbilt soon after and scored a touchdown with it.
Tighter uniforms and faster play have made the hidden ball trick harder and harder to perform. The bizarre play is hardly ever used today, thank God. It would totally befuddle the indecisive officials of this modern era. It would require an immediate replay, a delay of game, and a group discussion by a panel of league officials to get a final decision. What an absolute waste of time and energy. A quick and effective way to take the fun out of the game.
Here is another sample of old-time footballers attempting to circumvent and bend the rules a little.
Two of the smartest football coaches of all time were Percy Haughton of Harvard and “Pop” Warner, who coached at Carlisle Institute and later at Stanford. In 1908 Warner’s team from Carlisle was scheduled to play Harvard. The week before the Harvard game, Warner had to use a clever trick to help defeat a strong Syracuse team. Carlisle players had pads sewn to their pants and jerseys. The pads were the same size, shape and color as a football, making it very difficult to tell which player had the football and which one was only pretending. When Carlisle started to practice on Harvard’s field the day before the game, Haughton saw the football-like pads. “That’s not fair,” said Haughton mildly. “It’s not against the rules,” laughed Warner. ”I can put anything I like on my players jerseys.
But Haughton had a few tricks up his sleeve as well. Just before kickoff time, Warner and Haughton met on the field to pick out the game football. Warner reached into the bag of balls Haughton had brought and pulled one out. It was red! Haughton had dyed all of the balls crimson, the color of Harvard’s jerseys. “It’s not against the rules, Haughton smiled, a football doesn’t have to be brown, does it? Warner walked back to the sidelines muttering to himself. Harvard won the game, 17-0.
And amazingly as far as I can tell nobody was disciplined, fined, or suspended. The game was played, someone won, and someone lost. Truth be told it’s still just that simple even in this day and age of computers and the plethora of alleged football media experts.
OH, FOR A RETURN TO THE GOOD OLD DAYS
Go Steelers!!!
As I was preparing this post, I decided midsentence to step away from poetry for a day or two and to return to one of my favorite things which are limericks. I have quite the collection of limericks of all types and unfortunately, I have hundreds that I really can’t post on this blog, no matter how much readers continue to request them. I’ve picked out a few random samples from different historical periods and I’ll post them over the next few weeks. Here is my history by limerick . . .
***
World War II
A lady of doubtful nativity
Had an ass of extreme sensitivity.
She could sit on the lap
Of a Nazi or Jap,
And detect Fifth Column activity.
🪖🗽🪖
Don’t dip your prick in a WAC
Don’t ride the breast of a WAVE.
Just sit in the sand
And do it by hand
And buy bonds with the money you save.
🪖🗽🪖
There was a young lady from Beaman,
Who was known as a sexual demon.
“These soldiers,” said she,
“Mean nothing to me,
For what I really like is the semen.”
🪖🗽🪖
A female Nazi from Bredo
Advances her sinister credo,
By displaying her charms
During air raid alarms,
Inflaming the warden’s libido.
***
“The poet is a reporter interviewing his own heart.”
Christopher Morely
***
Poetry at times can be beautiful. It can bring tears to your eyes and joy to your heart but as with anything it also has the ability to become something dark and disturbing. I try to make a point of reading samples of poetry from as many poets as I can. Some of the most touching poems are not about happy moments running through fields of flowers with birds flying around, but of deep sadness and pain.
On a regular basis I make purchases from thrift bookstores on eBay. A book arrived at my home recently and I knew reading it was going to be extremely difficult. It’s a selection of poetry written by young people who have had to deal with divorcing parents. The book is titled “broken hearts… healing”, Young Poets Speaking Out, compiled and edited by Tom Worthen, Ph.D. I just finished reading the first half of that book and it forced me to deal with the pain I caused to my own son. Many years ago, I ended a twenty-year marriage and caused a great deal of pain to a young man that we adopted (at age twelve) from a number of state-run foster homes. He deserved better than we were able to give him at the time, and this book brought it all back with a vengeance. Here are two poems that brought tears to my eyes.
TUG OF WAR
Nobody has the life I have,
I can’t imagine if the whole world did.
My parents don’t even talk,
They get to ask who wants us and when.
It is like me and my two sisters are in the middle of everything.
So I hope you don’t have the life I have,
And if you do I’m sorry.
by Beth, Age 11
***
WHERE IS MY DAD?
He comes around like he cares,
but when I was young he was not there.
He has a new family and a wife to love dear,
when I was around he made me feel weird.
When I was alone crying in my bed,
was he there, no, it was mom instead.
When I look at my friends with their moms and dads,
I think if he didn’t mess it up,
Oh, what I could have had!
by Dana, Age 13
***
“Poetry is to prose as dancing is to walking.”
by John Wain
***
As I worked my way slowly through the public school system back in the 1960’s I received little or no information or exposure to poetry. It was mentioned in passing in some classes but there never was any serious time devoted to it. It just seems to me that making some poetry (not just the classics) available to younger students might just motivate them to either read more poetry or to write their own. A gentlemen named Richard Lewis, a lecturer on children’s literature and creative writing, apparently agreed with me. In cooperation with UNESCO, he traveled through eighteen English speaking countries around the world collecting poetry written by children between the ages of five and thirteen. Three thousand poems were collected with the best 200 published in his book, “Miracles” published in 1966. I’ve picked out two samples to give you some idea of just how talented many of the youngsters can be when expressing their thoughts in a poetic fashion.
THUNDER
by Glenys Van Every, Age 9, Australia
I hear
the drummers
strike
the sky.
***
SUMMER
by Margaret Bendig, Age 10, United States
Inviting, rippling waters
Waiting for little toes
Hurry, go get changed!
***
After reading a few pages of these poems I had a minor epiphany. These children were not trained in poetry but as they wrote their poems many of them began to look very much like free-verse haiku’s. Having no set restrictions on the length of lines and syllable counting allows the young poets freedom to truly express themselves.
Of course, being the irreverent SOB that I am I decided to write this haiku of mine and take it down a road not normally traveled. It contains some reference to nature but also just a touch of my humor. It’s a poetic mortal sin to write them this way and I’m sure it will tweak the noses of a few people. It’s always fun at times to make some people a little crazy.
*❤️*
NATURAL
by Me, Age: Old
Out of the corner of my eye
A bird sails quietly by.
A flash of golden sunlight,
And I have bird shit on my thigh.
***
SMILE, I DID INCLUDE SOME NATURE
‘The best craftsmanship always leaves holes and gaps . . . so that something
that is not in the poem can creep, crawl, flash, or thunder in.”
Dylan Thomas (1914-1953)
Well, welcome back to 2024. I hope you enjoyed the last post concerning Mr. Poe because I certainly did. I thought today I would begin talking about haikus. The current requirements for haikus are a first line with five syllables, a second line with seven syllables, and a third line of five syllables. When I first discovered the haiku I thought the rigidity of this design didn’t make a lot of sense. The more I learned about haikus the wiser I thought I became. Here are two examples of haiku’s written by a gentleman from Japan who is considered the father of haikus, Matsuo Kinsaku (1644-1694). He began writing haikus under the name of Basho in 1672. In Basho’s humble opinion a haiku should be created using a minimum of words to paint a mental picture for the reader. Basho included descriptions of nature in most of his haikus but wasn’t limited to a fixed syllable count. I’m all for free-verse haiku’s but I still find the nature requirement of Basho a bit restrictive. Here are couple of samples of Basho’s haikus published in the 1680’s. See what you think.
Spring rain –
under trees
a crystal stream.
***
On the dead limb
squats a crow –
autumn night.
The structure of haikus as mentioned above were created by two poets, Sokan (1458-1546) and Moritake (1472-1549). In Basho’s opinion their works were terse but failed to adequately evoke nature. Three hundred years later a haiku school, the Soun, was opened celebrating Basho’s free-verse approach. The haiku should be based on content not on the number of syllables in each line. With this I whole heartedly agree.
Here is a little something I discovered recently. It’s shows the form of a free-verse haiku but was simply published as a standard poem. References to nature are gone offering a more interesting take on life, love, and people.
we are the dreamers
we are the dancers
life is the music
love is the song.
For all of you Star Trek fans out there, this was written some years ago by Leonard Nimoy and was included in his book of poetry “A Lifetime of Love” published in 2002.
“The true poet dreams being awake.”
Charles Lamb
I thought I’d start this year with a most interesting writer and poet, Edgar Allen Poe. I was introduced to him in high school way back in the days of covered wagons and wild Indians (that was sarcasm). His poetry was spooky, dark, and mysterious which drew me to it immediately. What 15-year-old kid wouldn’t love that? As with most school systems of the time they offered only a few of his writings for classroom work and discussion. The Raven stands as one of his greatest works and we were required to read and memorize certain passages to get a passing grade and then we moved on to other things. My second Poe favorite was Anabel Lee. A love story for the ages except Anabel doesn’t long survive the experience. The flow of his words in that poem grabbed me immediately and I was able to quote some of its passages for years and occasionally still do.
As I aged and was able to read more about Poe and his strange approach to life, the more attention I began to pay to poetry in general. I still think that actual world class poets are few and far between, but Poe was the real deal. Along with Emily Dickenson they are my two favorites. I especially liked Poe because he wrote what he felt and really did nothing to pander to the masses. In my opinion that’s what gives his works real meaning and weight.
Another of Poe’s works has slowly over the years made its way to the top of my favorites list, even more so than the Raven and Anabel Lee. I stumbled on to it quite by accident years ago and it has become one of those rare things that periodically calls to me to be read again. As with all of Poe’s poetry it’s best read while wrapped in a warm blanket on a dark and stormy night by candlelight.
ALONE
From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were – I have not seen
As others saw – I could not bring
My passions from a common spring –
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow – I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone –
And all I lov’d – I lov’d alone –
Then – in my childhood – in the dawn
Of a most stormy life – was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still –
From the torrent, or the fountain –
From the red cliff of the mountain –
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold –
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by –
From the thunder, and the storm –
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
1829
***
WELCOME TO 2024
“Resolution in a bad cause is called stubbornness; stubbornness in a good cause is called resolution.”
Anonymous
Well, here I quietly sit trying to decompress from another Christmas season. I just completed my two and a half months’ worth of humor primarily to see if the response to the humor posts was as good or equal to my standard blogging techniques. The increase was minor which tells me many things but that will have to wait for another day. Just so you know, it would probably bore you to tears.
My plan going forward for 2024 is to do a few weeks of poetry. Some of you will enjoy that thoroughly and others will say “what the hell are you doing?” I get that poetry is not something everyone likes, and I understand that completely. I’ve tried to read as much poetry as I could over the years and truthfully the great majority of it was disappointing. It’s not that poetry isn’t interesting; it just wasn’t interesting to me. I’ve come to realize that my favorite poems are short, sweet, and something that forces the reader to use their imagination. That eventually led me to haikus. For me to enjoy poetry it has to be less than three stanzas long. Even that’s a little much for me that’s why I find haiku’s so interesting. So, I suppose January is going to consist of short and meaningful poetry taken from many famous poets, some of my own, and some of yours if you choose to offer it up to be posted. I’ll also throw in a host of limericks of all flavors just for fun. I hope you’ll enjoy what I’m trying to do here, maybe you will and maybe you won’t.
But before we start January, I need to deal with some other business relating to 2024. That is my New Year’s resolutions. In the past I’ve usually listed ten and completed at most six or seven. I try to make them humorous because most people don’t take them all that serious anyway. This year I’ll list just five, maybe that will motivate me to complete a higher percentage. Here they are:
READ MORE THAN 100 BOOKS
TRY TO BE A LITTLE FRIENDLIER TOWARDS THE REST OF THE WORLD
KEEP DUNKIN’ EXPENDITURES TO LESS THAN $40.00 A MONTH
COMPLETE EIGHT PAINTINGS OR PRINTS
LEARN AT LEAST FOUR NEW CUSS WORDS FROM MY GRANDSONS
***
“Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail what you resolve.”
Ben Franklin
***
There you have it. Maybe I’ll accomplish them all for a change (chances are slim and none) but I’ll keep trying. It’s always fun to look back at previous years to confirm just how bad you are about being successful.
HAPPY NEW YEAR
Quote of the Day
“Three may keep a Secret if two of them are dead.”
Benjamin Franklin
🤪🤪🤪
Joke of the Day #1
The kindergarten class had a homework assignment to find out about something exciting that would be related to the class the next day. When the time came for the little kids to give their reports, the teacher began calling on them one at a time. She was reluctant to call on Little Johnny, knowing that he sometimes could be a little crude. Eventually his turn came, and Little Johnny walked up to the front of the class and, with a piece of chalk, made a small white dot on the blackboard, and then sat back down. Well, the teacher couldn’t figure out what Johnny had in mind for his report, so she asked him what that dot meant. “It’s a period,” reported Johnny. “Well, I can see that,” she said. “But what is so exciting about a period?” “Damned if I know,” said Johnny. “But this morning my sister said she missed one. Then my daddy had a heart attack, mommy fainted, and the man next door shot himself.”
☘️☘️☘️
Limerick of the Day
There was a young lady, named Frances,
Who decided to better her chances,
By cleverly adding
Appropriate padding,
To enlarge her protuberances!
🤡🤡🤡
Joke of the Day #2
News Flash: Today the world was stunned by the death of the Energizer Bunny. He was thirty six years old. Authorities believe that the death occurred at approximately 8:42 PM last evening. Best known as the irritating pink bunny that kept going, and going and going, “Pinkie” as he was known to his friends and family, was alone at the time of his death. An emergency autopsy was performed early this morning. Chief Medical Examiner, Dura Cell, concluded that the cause of death was acute cardiac arrest induced by sexual overstimulation. Apparently, someone put the bunny’s batteries in backwards and he kept coming, and coming, and coming . . .
🤗🤗🤗
Wisdom of the Day
Much learning does not teach understanding.
EMILY
***
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And in despair I bowed my head;
“There is no peace on earth,” I said;
“For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men.”
MERRY CHRISTMAS
Quote of the Day
Christmas is the season of giving.
“A gift is pure when it is given from the heart to the right
person at the right time and at the right place, and when
we expect nothing in return.”
Bhagavad Gita
🤪🤪🤪
Joke of the Day #1
Three men died on Christmas Eve and were met by Saint Peter at the pearly gates. “In honor of this holy season,” Saint Peter said, “You must each possess something that symbolizes Christmas to get into heaven.” The first man fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a lighter. He flicked it on. “It represents a candle”, he said. “Very well, you may pass through the pearly gates,” Saint Peter said. The second man reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He shook them and said, “They’re bells.” Saint Peter said, “You may also pass through the pearly gates.” The third man started searching desperately through his pockets and finally pulled out a pair of women’s panties. St. Peter looked at the man with a raised eyebrow and asked, “And just what do those symbolize?” The man replied, “These are Carol’s.”
☘️☘️☘️
Limerick of the Day
Old Santa had such a lovely beard,
Who once said, “It is just as I feared!
Two owls and a hen,
Four larks and a wren,
Have all built their nests in my beard!”
🤡🤡🤡
Joke of the Day #2
One Christmas Eve, Santa was under a lot of stress. He and Mrs. Claus had just had a fight, it was nearly time to leave, and his sleigh wasn’t loaded, and the elves were talking about going on strike. Then an angel walked into his office and asked, “Hey, Santa, what do you want me to do with this Christmas tree?” And so was born the tradition of there being an angel on top of the Christmas tree.
🤗🤗🤗
Wisdom of the Day
Charity knows neither race nor creed.
everyuselessthing.com 