David Hilton's basketball poem "The Poet Tries to Turn in His Jock," read by A.S.
Transcript:
(00:00:00) The way I see it is that when I step out on that court and feel inside that I can't make the plays it'll be time to call it quits. So said Elgin Baylor. Going up for the jump shot giving the kid the head fakes and all till he's jock tried out the door of the gym, and I'm free at the top with the ball and my touch lofting the ark off my fingertips. I feel my left calf turned to stone and my ankle warp inward to form when I land neat right angle with my leg and I'm on the floor a pile of sweat and sick muscles saying Hilton your 29 getting fat you can't drive to your right anymore. You can think of better things to do on Saturday afternoons, then be a chump for a bunch of sophomore third stringers. Join, the Y Steam and martinis and muscle tone. But damn it the shot goes in.