Most women and young girls usually have to ask. Keeping up with a sport's score is quite a task. With the game going on, we always have to hope. That we can keep track behind the strecthed out rope. When we see our sons play, it gives us many thrills and delight, but we get very upset, if there is a violent scramble or fight. Then my youngest son has just became a top scoring jammer. Over the school's loud speaker, "Michael, the Hammer!" I am concerned more about having something to eat and the good weather, but my son, Michael is concerned about his feet of leather. Whenever I go, I want in the place the best seat. I get upset when my son's team and coach is in defeat. I really don't like this running around and tired old game. What are they after the applause, money, or fame. Our men do not want to be bothered and talked to. That is why they go around ignoring me and you; "boo hoo." Men think that there is always a time or season. However, telling us time and time again is enough reason. Then I let everyone know, "that's my son; I adore!" Of course, it doesn't make any difference of the score. Copyright (C) 1995 Marva L. Dowdin
Reason for writing:
Women at a ball game is a man's worse nightmare. As they
have to explain each and every call or play. This is one
more poem from my first book, 'When It's OK To Be Crazy!'
I am hoping that you are enjoying them. Marva L. Dowdin
Birth sign: Not entered
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