Lacrosse Poem

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Lacrosse Poem

Postby Billax » Mon Oct 03, 2005 9:24 am

This poem appeared in the program of the 1974 Lacrosse World Championships.

"Lacrosse the Sport of Canada" - Fred Jacob

I'm one of the old lacrosse boys; a friend of the gutted stick
I tell you the old game's got me; at times I think I'm sick

Of the days it takes for training; of the games that are earned and lost,
"I'm through," I say, when we put away our sticks with the Autumn frost
But when May comes down on the West wind, 'tis then that I feel the pang
At the thought of the fun I'd be missing, and you find me back with the gang

I've done my stint in in the scorching heat; a heat that no one knows
Who has not lived for a Summer in "Our Lady of the Snow".
I've felt the grass a-sizzle, and I've felt my tongue hang out;
While the sweat on my neck and forehead, streamed down like a water-spout.
I've seen the field a-whirling, and never really knew
How I nerved myself for another sprint, and stayed 'til the whistle blew.

There are jolts and you bet you feel them, when you get the body fair -
Some bumps you take, and some bumps you give - in the end you call it square.
Maybe you shed a tooth or two; your skin is not always whole.
But it's worth it when you grab the ball, and bang in the winning goal.
You know the crowd is with you; you can hear the loud mouthed fan:
"Go down on the home, for the love of Mike", or "Everybody cover a man".

And, oh, your blood goes leaping, when the boys in the bleaches roar:
"Bore in on the nets, break the tie - just two minutes to score".
You have pulled out a game by a hair's breadth, or you've cracked beneath the strain;
But they still have a thrill, in after years, when you play them all over again.

So measure the creases ready, and put the nets in place;
The teams are padded and steady, and the ball is there to face.
I'll be out to do my darndest, if I'm only an "also ran".
For this is the sport of Canada - a game that takes a man.
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Postby DlaxDad » Fri Feb 02, 2007 12:42 pm

Great pome. Time to move this topic to the front of the list.
A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.
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Postby rancho d-pole 45 » Sun Feb 04, 2007 3:03 pm

amazing poem.
rancho lax. only way to play.
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Postby DlaxDad » Sat Feb 10, 2007 11:01 pm

" -- a game that takes a man . . . ."

One of my favorite shirts -- Lacrosse. It's what men play during basketball season.
A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.
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Re: Lacrosse Poem

Postby DlaxDad » Tue May 24, 2011 12:44 pm

This should be a sticky . . . .
A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.
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