Fans from both sides Yelling at the referees, Telling them how to do their job. I wanted to defend the referees right There. But then I thought, "How could I plead my case Regarding a sport that most of the audience knows Better than I do?" I rested my case in my head. Even the coaches were mocking How they could make better calls And how many the referees missed. I guess that's why my dad and brother Didn't give a **** about the tension. They've seen tension not only from me In the family, But they have an awareness of sports That my experience cannot contest.
I have thin skin, I can't let these situations slide. I couldn't be in an arena Where every fan was booing the officials. I had to leave; my hands are still marked with The filth of unsportsmanlike conduct On every animate being. Sure no sport can come clean, And everyone in my family and most outside my house Had to remind me in basketball, piano, football, That it's "just a game."
I left this so-called game early. I wasn't really rooting for any team; I don't even think I was watching a real game.
I was really tired while writing the first one, so if it's sloppy I apologize and will look into necessary edits. There's more I wanted to say on this poem's topic though...