Eddie Gray
¶ 1
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The nuanced flair drew the eye
But his joy for the game held the fondness
One shoulder hung low, an arm crocked
Stud defying, rolled down socks
Tongue poking the corner of his mouth
¶ 2
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Eyes in his toes, second-guessing
The blindness of the fullback’s lunge
Flailing legs, arresting neither ball nor man
His pocket picked like a ripe pear
By the dexterity of Eddie’s left foot
¶ 3
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Accelerating to maraud at box’s edge
The turn, the drag back, the feint
Never overstated, never ostentatious
Just the exhilaration of competition
And a conspicuous absence of malice
¶ 4
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The sheer facility, the accomplishment
The mastery over control and movement
But there was always something more
The triumph of the Corinthian spirit
Alive to the higher possibilities of the game
¶ 5
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A sense that while fortunes will rise and fall
As he remained true to football’s beauty,
He could never leave the field in despair
But could play on, to grace the left side corridor
Respected and admired by all who saw him
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