Saturday, April 22, 2006
Taskmaster
Taskmaster
1940s - '50
It was always Walt who saved the cash to pay for all our fun.
When he bought the brand new basketball, a new phase had begun.
The bike he purchased with his sweat saw many useful miles,
shared equally by five of us, the source of many smiles.
You push it off a hill to start, excitement burning high.
Some wrecks are just expected, but don't you dare to cry!
He ordered spokes from Monkey-Ward, and patched a million flats.
We took his work for granted; he wore a dozen hats.
He was idol and encourager, the one we leaned upon.
He coached us all in every sport, then one day he was gone.
I never paid him back the loot he loaned me in a pinch
nor thanked him for the horse he bought and left for me and Dink.
The time we took his car apart sure wore his patience thin,
but nutty as we were those days, we'd do it all again.
His criticism spurred us on to master many skills
as years of destitution helped toughen up our wills.
Big brother was his role in life, taskmaster he became,
and most importantly, he taught that life is like a game.
You find the talents you possess and hone them razor fine
so everything is ready when it's your night to shine.
1940s - '50
It was always Walt who saved the cash to pay for all our fun.
When he bought the brand new basketball, a new phase had begun.
The bike he purchased with his sweat saw many useful miles,
shared equally by five of us, the source of many smiles.
You push it off a hill to start, excitement burning high.
Some wrecks are just expected, but don't you dare to cry!
He ordered spokes from Monkey-Ward, and patched a million flats.
We took his work for granted; he wore a dozen hats.
He was idol and encourager, the one we leaned upon.
He coached us all in every sport, then one day he was gone.
I never paid him back the loot he loaned me in a pinch
nor thanked him for the horse he bought and left for me and Dink.
The time we took his car apart sure wore his patience thin,
but nutty as we were those days, we'd do it all again.
His criticism spurred us on to master many skills
as years of destitution helped toughen up our wills.
Big brother was his role in life, taskmaster he became,
and most importantly, he taught that life is like a game.
You find the talents you possess and hone them razor fine
so everything is ready when it's your night to shine.
For some reason, we four younger siblings thought we had to do whatever Walter said, just because he was the oldest. He probably decreed that to be the law and we didn't know any better. He was always a sports fanatic, and we played the games that happened to be in season. I thought he was the inventor of such games, as we had never been anywhere to learn what was going on.
When he nailed an old bucket to the front of the porch at Skinners' Shack, I wondered why he didn't call it bucketball instead of basketball. We used Dink's little rubber red-white-and-blue ball, which was a wee bit smaller than the bottom of the bucket, and I was addicted with the first successful pitch. The yard was mostly rocks and goatheads (stickers), so that little ball wore out in no time. I kept plunking it at the bucket even after it was in shreds, playing until darkness drove me inside.
Soon Walter saved up some money to order a real basketball from the catalog. It was laced like a football, so the bladder could be removed and patched when it got full of goathead holes. With hoes, we cleared off a large area near the barn with fewer rocks, using an upside-down chair for a goal, and here Walter coached us into a small team of outstanding basketball players. We were also good at tackle football, high jump, baseball, horseback riding, swimming, boxing. You name it, we tried it.
A couple of years ago, after having a concrete patio poured the whole length of the house, I decided it was probably a sin to be wasting all that beautiful area with only patio furniture, so bought a basketball and goal, attaching it to the edge of the patio roof. People say, "For your grandkids?"
Nope, for Grandma. Exercise is now a lot more fun than walking on a treadmill or lifting weights. I can still pop the net on a regular basis, and I'm thankful to Walter for the early interest in sports that helps keep me in tip-top shape.
Cora Gail (Gunn Butt) Trent
www.cgtrent.com
When he nailed an old bucket to the front of the porch at Skinners' Shack, I wondered why he didn't call it bucketball instead of basketball. We used Dink's little rubber red-white-and-blue ball, which was a wee bit smaller than the bottom of the bucket, and I was addicted with the first successful pitch. The yard was mostly rocks and goatheads (stickers), so that little ball wore out in no time. I kept plunking it at the bucket even after it was in shreds, playing until darkness drove me inside.
Soon Walter saved up some money to order a real basketball from the catalog. It was laced like a football, so the bladder could be removed and patched when it got full of goathead holes. With hoes, we cleared off a large area near the barn with fewer rocks, using an upside-down chair for a goal, and here Walter coached us into a small team of outstanding basketball players. We were also good at tackle football, high jump, baseball, horseback riding, swimming, boxing. You name it, we tried it.
A couple of years ago, after having a concrete patio poured the whole length of the house, I decided it was probably a sin to be wasting all that beautiful area with only patio furniture, so bought a basketball and goal, attaching it to the edge of the patio roof. People say, "For your grandkids?"
Nope, for Grandma. Exercise is now a lot more fun than walking on a treadmill or lifting weights. I can still pop the net on a regular basis, and I'm thankful to Walter for the early interest in sports that helps keep me in tip-top shape.
Cora Gail (Gunn Butt) Trent
www.cgtrent.com
