I started this poem last night after the Giants beat the Bengals on Monday Night Football.  Seems I always think of my Dad whenever I watch the Giants, our family's favorite football team way before my memories start.  I've passed the tradition down to some of my children which makes me very happy.  Brother Jon and his kids too.  It's fun when we can get together and cheer and put holes in the ceiling and think of Elmer.

My father's knee

a good place to be

when all we felt was sorrow

as we watched our team

get buried.

We suffered toe to toe

As we watched Francis T.

and wide receiver Homer Jones go

 home unceremoniously.

Week after week we'd sit there suffering

cheering loudly, loyally crying

hoping that one week

we'd end up cheering and

happily sighing.

Didn't happen much

But we were diehard fans

Who cares about lunch

 dirty pots and pans

The games were long 

full of disappointment

Giant fans always strong

Ever loyal in our deportment.

He made me a Giant fan
Of the New York Giants see
The sweet memories still fill me
Sundays, always hopeful,
Next to my Dad