stepping through the block

At first I thought I'd be flashy
on my run toward the goal.
A burst of brilliance--
short, declarative spurts and fakes,
but I was blocked before I could take a second touch

And then I thought I'd be slick:
rehash a classic strategy
but spin it a new way,
put a different bend on the shot,
But there's a reason it's not my move--
the defense held firm,
held me at a line
I couldn't move through

So then I thought I'd be cute
and flick it through--
a short and sweet nutmeg to get me past
but I needed an extra touch
and couldn't take it, and we reset

Then a stroke of inspiration
sent a beautiful line through to me
but I was stuck at the eighteen--
couldn't finish

And so I was desperate,
slammed my head on the pitch:
cried foul--but I only saw yellow
I marked myself down

Play on: I needed the point--
It'd been too damn long since I scored.
So I thought I'd be random and
take a wild shot--
It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't memorable,
but I got myself through,
and godammit, I hit net.

pointaken
7.1.2006