Coach Poem by M.J. Lemon
Coach
he died how he lived
with his right hand on his balls
feet in the dugout
A brilliantly crafted poem that captures the essence of a traditional, old school sports figure. It depicts lifelong dedication as a basketball coach. Succinct and raw in memory of a great person. A favorite.
Thank you, Rose Marie. Indeed this was a real memory about a real person. It was a long time ago, and haven't thought about the coach in years. Thanks so much for reading!
That's the great thing about poetry, my friend...so many different interpretations. I love picking up on the subtle! That's an art form in itself!
2) Very witty and mysterious. Thanks for keeping us guessing.
Sounds like the ballsy Kerouac who was a huge fan of baseball and could have been an NFL superstar.
I can always count on you, Richard, to pick up the subtle. Yes, I was thinking about Kerouac and a mention of an old baseball coach came up. He was the inspiration, setting an example many years ago. He was known for 'resting' in the dugout and having trouble with his spirits.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 10:19:36 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
Cont....please read baseball coach instead of basketball coach. It is hard to amend the comments here...