Music To My Ears

Yo Sports Fans!

Have you noticed any poetry, as in poetic justice, gracing the latest professional events?

No, I'm not referring to a Tiger who won't be prowling through the U.S. Open field at the great relief of those who can't make a clutch shot to save their life.

Staying with golf, there was that young fellow who played in the tournament named after his idol. He was up just one shot with a number of other power-groups of golfers still to finish. I knew, after hearing him speak about Byron Nelson, that somehow he was going to win his 'Memorial'. It took a sudden death playoff but the celestial resonance was deafening.

But the clincher was the Canadian team's young goalie criticizing the older Boston goalie for allowing, in a key game, just one goal in a loss to the Canadian team. Needless to say, Boston came back the next game scoring a quick four goals and winning to tie the series.

The other night, not history but poetry was made as that same veteran goalie for the Bruins shut out the opposition, both the team and its home crowd, to win the Stanley Cup. That was music to the ears of my defiant spirit.

From clincher to kicker: How about the die-hard Union fans, in the heat of weather and competition, refusing to allow another disappointing season for Philadelphia soccer now playing in Chester. That leaves us with the full-court press on B-ball in Philly (woe to the men but not the women) and a football lockout. There's always the opportunity for Jocks 101 courses in English Lit. and Music Appreciation.

Ah, but what about the fallout/aftermath from disgruntled and sore losers? Sigmund Freud's response to an inquiry for psychotherapy applies here: "Well, I don't suppose it would do much, but perhaps turn your hysterical misery into ordinary unhappiness."