CRUNCH TIME BUNGLER
With a last-second shot on goal,
I launched a one-timer at the five hole.
The puck hit the ref square on the chin …
It wasn’t us who got the win.
My two-foot putt to take the match
Rolled off the green into a briar patch.
With the bases loaded I came to the plate:
Looked at strike three. We lost nine to eight.
A spare in the tenth would take the crown,
But the seven and ten pins wouldn’t go down.
Then I missed a forced checkmate in three …
Another win that eluded me.
I was playing bridge just for kicks,
I bid a slam and took three tricks.
Sinking one free-throw would make me a hero,
I had three shots and only made zero.
Whatever the game I’m a sure-thing choker,
I’d be bankrupt in seconds if I ever played poker.
Just once I’d like to come through in the clutch,
But I’m afraid that’s asking way too much.
Alas, the sweet smell of victory
Will forever waft away from me.
But please, one time before I die
Could the game at least conclude in a tie?
(Image: Wikimedia Commons)
