Jordan Mizerak

How I Exercise My Freedom

Another long soccer season finished,
Practice every day, games two times a week.
A sub par record, coach disappointed,
Another season wasted, down the creek.

Then my coach starts his long, annoying rants
“You must all come back for next year’s season,
We will need all of you to have a chance,
Why you won’t come back, there is no reason”

I arrive at tryouts a year later
My excited coach greets me and says, “Hey!
Glad you’re here, we need you for the better”
I take his hand, shake it, and proudly say

“You were a great coach; do not get me wrong,
But this year, I prefer playing ping-pong.”


Copyright 2002-2008 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose 2002-2008 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.