Mastering life lessons we learn from golf

Life is like a round of golf.
It’s a walk with valued friends.
It tests your skill and finds you yelling “Fore!”
The bunkers and the hazards
try your patience and your faith
as you anticipate your final score.

You’re grateful for a Mulligan
when you (at times) mess up.
Like “breakfast balls” the Good Lord offers grace.
Perfection is elusive,
but you give it your best shot
in hopes you’ll reach your dream and card an ace.

And when you’ve played your final round
and reach the 19th hole,
you calculate what matters most of all:
Your family and your colleagues
and the memories you made
while chasing after that white dimpled ball.

*This poem was written in memory of die-hard golfer Peter Dierickx who died a few weeks before the 2016 Masters. 

Is the big game about football or commercials?

While Denver might be Peyton’s Place
and Charlotte Newton’s town,
this Sunday neither one will be at home.
The Broncos and the Panthers
will be in the Golden State
to taste the glory fifty years has grown.

Down at the shrine to Levi’s
where the Forty Niners play,
we’ll watch the biggest bowl game of them all.
This national sensation
is a holiday of sorts.
It’s the Sunday advertisers make a haul.

But most of all this Sunday
is a time to reminisce
about the year our team went all the way.
It’s a day for friends and fam’ly
to draw close and feast on food
while we cheer commercials (and outstanding plays).

The Seahawks’ miraculous return from the dead

Did you watch that game last Sunday
‘tween the Seahawks and Green Bay?
It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
Sure defeat gave way to victory.
Sorrow turned to happiness.
The black of mourning morphed to blue and green.

Some called it ‘resurrection.’
The Hawks were good as dead.
Three minutes left and two touchdowns behind.
The hometown fans were leaving.
Hope was gone, the end in sight.
It was clear the winds of fate would not be kind.

And then without a fanfare,
hope returned. The Hawks found life
and they reached the end zone twice in record time.
In a miracle reversal
grief surrendered to great joy.
An onside kick became a sacred sign.

Then “the twelves” sang victory’s praises.
What a choir! What delight!
It was like Good Friday turned to Easter morn.
In a game that’s for the ages,
there’s a metaphor of faith
when a lifeless dream that’s buried is reborn.

Why the Seahawks stadium resembles church

It’s Sunday and the worshipers
have gathered filled with hope.
They raise their hands toward Heaven as they pray.
These congregants are fervent
in their liturgy and zeal.
You’d think it’s church to see the Seahawks play.

The refs (like certain preachers)
are preoccupied with rules.
They’re quick to point out when somebody sins.
But they also call attention
to the progress that is made
as they run along beside Lynch til he’s in.

The choir wears their matching robes
that boast the number 12.
They loudly sing their songs in unison.
Their chanting cheers the faithful
as their words inspire faith
that when all is said and done they will have won.

“Go Hawks!” A stranger offers
as he passes on the street.
He see me clad in 12th Man green and blue.
“Go Hawks!” is my rejoinder
much like what we say in church
“The Lord be with you! And also with you!”

It seems like a religion
when you stop to analyze
the rituals that mark a Seahawks’ fan.
There’s passion and allegiance
and commitment to a cause
that a non-believer cannot understand.

How our World Cup team unites our nation

“One nation under God” we say
but most the time we’re not.
We argue about gays and guns
and legalizing pot.

But don’t you love how we unite
around our World Cup dreams?
We are “united states” this month
while cheering on our team!

It feels quite good when we draw close
and act as though we’re one.
To show allegiance to a cause
is actually quite fun.

Divided states of blue and red
define us when we vote.
But when we’re cheering-on our team,
we’re all in the same boat.