Thursday, 30 September 2010


My friend Pat Connolly asked me a while back, to write a poem about basketball.
Sure I haven't a clue about the game I said to him.

But recently I have started taking my little girl to basketball training and what better way to pass the hour waiting for it to finish than to bring a notepad and write a poem, so I did.

Below is one of Pats photos from the glory days of Cork basketball in the 1980's

Team Britvic Jasper McElroy wins tip-off against Burgerland Joe Healy. Picture: Courtesy of Pat Connolly.

The sound it rings across the hall
The hollow sound of bouncing ball

There’s lots of stuff for to remember
From diehard player to casual member

One point per throw will do just fine
The pressure of the free throw line

Two refs for foul or violation
Or just to quell the aggravation

Three points on offer all the time
When shooting from that oval line

Four team fouls allowed quarterly
Otherwise its throws for free

Five players start, fresh and alive
They’re AKA the starting five

Offence means time to attack,
Defence means strong at the back

Can be dangerous, all get down
Fella’s shooting from downtown

Get out there play, don’t stand like statues
For Demons, Neptune or Father Mathews

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