Duck...!

I’ve never been very adept at sports.
My tennis serve always looked as though
I was swatting a swarm of flies.

Ping pong was no better.
The last time I played a couple of years ago,
the ball pinged more than it ponged.
The ceiling tiles were hit more often than the paddle.
I nearly lopped the ear off my partner.

Field hockey in high school?
Let’s just say my teammates were lucky that
their heads were still upright…

Basketball?
If it was game legal to shoot into both baskets,
I would have been stellar.
However, I reigned supreme at volleyball.
Being tall helped as I could spike the ball
just over the net.

One recent sport I’ve taken up is billiards.
I still can’t break worth weasel spit, but I’ve
learned enough from pool technique books
to plan a shot--often surprising, Physics defying,
two-pocket shots, jaw-dropping my opponent.

“That shot defied the law of Physics, Minnesota Skinny,”
he’d say. I always felt highly complemented since my
doctorate friend geometrically planned most of his shots.

I think I finally found my niche…
Now if I’d only keep some of the balls from jumping the table…