Saturday Morning


Sunrise

Sunrise

Ah, Saturday morning, what can I say
I’ve worked all week for this day
to sleep in later than I normally do
or maybe get out early to have some fun
or better yet, go for a run
all of these things are open to me
and a host of others too numerous to see
what it is I want to do
on this day off from the working zoo.

In years gone by it would be spent
on the soccer fields with my teams
the ones that I was with all week-long
teaching them the soccer song
Teams of young kids all wanting to learn
how to play so they too
could use their skills and with the ball
of dribbling and juggling they knew it all.

Soccer team

On Sundays it would be my turn
for me to run and jump and twist and burn
the guy opposite me with my incredible speed
mostly only in my dreams
as speed was a long gone thing
just like me trying to sing
I can’t hold a note and neither could I
run faster than the other guy.

But speed notwithstanding I still enjoyed
my time on the fields with the other men
who I had known for many a year
each season we would do it all again
occasionally there would be fights
but mostly just for the bragging rights
and to sit around after and share a beer
content that the weekend was here.

My soccer team

My soccer team

Actually, it’s not quite true
although when I was a working man
is how I felt for the week’s end
to spend my time how I wanted to.

Now I’m retired and much older now
and Saturday is very much the same
as all of the other days in the week
as no longer the need for a special day
as every one is special in its own way
It matters not what day of the week
as I can do anything I think
I would like to do on this day
and as I can no longer play
what use do I have for Saturday.

The body is old and the mind is weak
so I spend my time in my yard
working on things that I used to think
had to be done on those magic days
Saturday and Sunday for the truth to say
they were the only days I had time
when I was working to make a dime.

When I wake up every day
I think to myself, what day is this
as they tend to one another run
when I no longer routines keep
and no more nine to five
to govern how I stay alive
every day is a Saturday to me
and the weekend no speciality
as I can do any day of the week
the things I used to keep
just for the weekends to do.

Farmers Market

Farmers Market

Even so, Saturday still has its place
with Farmers Market or maybe a race
things that can only be held on the weekend
so others may share and participate.

The same fields I used to spend my time
are still just like they used to be
with kids running around and Parents too
together to play and watch and shout
for them, nothing much has changed
as they are still in the game.

As I drive by, sadness I feel
that no longer can I do the stuff
I used to do years ago
before the body got old and slow
and Saturday was a special day
to be spent in the way
I wanted to.

Sunset, end of the day

Sunset, end of the day

————————————————————————————————-

 

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Saturday Morning

  1. Back in ’02 or so I foundly remember playing with you. I was then young fortysomething player recovering from yet another knee surgery, trying one last time to rehab and play upper level Sunday in the Park, a noble goal, and foolish, goal for me. And I came to decide my heros weren’t the guys fifteen years younger than me that could do things my body could no longer even fantasy about, but rather the Over 50 players, that still pushed themselves around. And nobody represented than more than you.

    By the way, I am still playing, though I gave up on competitive Open some time ago. And remembering your play helps keep me going on those days I think my body aches too much to go at it.

    Like

    • John. Thanks for your kind words. Never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would inspire anyone. I played until I was 72 but in retrospect did not do my body (read legs and knees) ant favors by playing so long. If anyone asks, I advise them to quit after the first knee surgery and before the knee transplant…

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s