No Fuckin' Losing ~ NFL

No Fuckin' Losing ~ NFL
 
I tickle this silver catacomb
the way most men caress
a sweetheart or their first baby girl
I've earned the right
 
My daddy taught me to play the game
He'd have me in the yard 
Lined up in three point stance 
Nose to nose
So close I could taste the Jim Beam on his breath 
I had one task 
 
Get by Him
 
I'd charge, and he'd knock my narra' ass
to and fro
Said I hit like a bitch
I'd charge again
Down again
 
Bitch 
 
He made me wear a dress 'round the house
Said when I could hit like a man 
I could walk about him like one
Until then I was a 
 
Bitch 
 
Down in three point stance
Eye to eye
Jim Beam
I clipped his nose with my elbow 
Threw my forearm in his throat
Knocked him on his ass
 
He was flat on his back 
 
I was past Him
 
He sat up laughing
Blood flowing from his nostrils
 
Shit boy, you broke it
Hell, Now you're ready to play some 'ball, he said
'lessen you want to keep the dress
 
I was 11
 
I pitied no one sacrificed before me on the line
For with each snap I heard one word
 
Bitch 
 
And for each soul that I took possession of
For every man's will I broke 
I was rewarded 
 
Forty years later my father's fury is ransomed
I trace my fingers over what he called
His greatest glory
My ring 
and player's trophy, 
lil' Vince for sale
 
I'm propped up in my wheelchair in a flea market
and doped up just long enough
so's I can get some scratch for what I need
 
Jim Beam
Cartons of smokes
A blow job when I remember I'm horny
 
Cash in hand
with my life savings sold 
I hear the ol' bastard whisper
 
Bitch 
 
 
Presented in the FOOTBALL writing challenge hosted by zinger