Hasenpfeffer

Mostly a true story.  (I thought I posted this last Monday but just found it saved as a draft.)

                                               Hasenpfeffer

                               The night of the big game, I ascended

                               to the P.A. booth, chosen to spot

                               the rival players for Mr. Sosebee

                               on that wet and rainy Friday.

                               Time after time, I couldn’t pick out

                               a number from the muddy pile, but

                               Mr. Sosebee would still confidently announce,

      “Hasenpfeffer in on the tackle….Hasenpfeffer

       on that catch…four more yards for Hasenpfeffer.”

       It was the last time I was asked to be a spotter.

                               After the game, I found my friend Steve

                               still in pads and cleats in the locker room,

                               staring at the cracked concrete floor.

                               “That Hasenpfeffer killed us,” he muttered.

                               “Don’t take it so hard,” I said.

       “He does that to everyone.”