Patrick Kicks The Ball Poem by D.N. Rebb

Forty three yards from the end-zone
Currently in the fourth down
Q.B.'s now done with all his throwin'

The cumulative score, now tied
Little under two minutes in its final quarter
All routine calls were substantially tried

The intimidating goal posts remain firm at a distance
Just one field goal to win this game
Ignore the displacement of the visitor's resistance

We've got home field advantage after all,
Yet the fans have become fearfully silent
"Let's win this" someone finally routinely calls

Time for Patrick to be ushered in,
He has but one acquired skill,
To kick the dirty little pigskin!

A cucumber cool stroll towards the line o' scrimmage
The objective, get it over the heads of the defending team
Such a distinct composite striking image

He looks and points towards the end zone
The place holder meticulously restrains the ball
An essential alliance now ultimately sewn

As the stadium's boundless enthusiasm analyses
Patrick kicks the ball……..
But shamefully misses!

Perhaps one could blame the wind,
Or the damn overhead lights from atop o' the arena
Actual jeering from the stand was haughtily sent

Poor Patrick, just shaking his disappointed head
So much riding on this scrawny man's shoulders
Redemption if it goes into overtime instead

And so, he sits back down, enjoys some Gatorade
His appointed time might come up once again
After all, only he's the scholar of a one knack trade,

So, he remains nonchalant and carefree
They'll probably need him out again
Thus, Patrick will just patiently wait and see.