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  • Football dreams No one was fasterthen my father on the football team field no one could keep him from crossing the line. Thentouching down again.Coaches were watching the way he moved, his easy stride, his long arm reaching up, snatching the ball from its soft pocket of air.My father dreamed of football dreams,and woke to a scholarship at Ohio State University. Grown nowliving big-city life in Columbus just sixty milesfrom Nelsonvileand from there, Interstate 70 could get youon your way west to Chicago Interstate 77 could take you southbut my father said no colored Buckeye In his right mind would ever want to go there.From Columbus, my father said, you could go just about anywhere.
  • Throws the ball to teammate
  • He makes it in and touch down
  • I Choose This poet because when my dad and I watch football on Sundays we would have father and son time just us two, And my dad would tell me the football players' names and, more stuff like would say they were good at and, what not there good at. I and's favorite player is Tom Brady because He moves from side to side, almost imperceptibly hopping steps forward past the defensive line and releasing a perfect strike before the linebacker can get to him. Brady is better than anyone in the NLF at feeling pressure, without seeing pressure, and it lets him pickapart defenses trying to turn up the heat.
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