<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374853" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Fast Break</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><i>In Memory of Dennis Turner, 1946-1984</i></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A hook shot kisses the rim and<br>hangs there, helplessly, but doesn't drop,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and for once our gangly starting center<br>boxes out his man and times his jump</div><div style="margin:10px 0">perfectly, gathering the orange leather<br>from the air like a cherished possession</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and spinning around to throw a strike<br>to the outlet who is already shoveling</div><div style="margin:10px 0">an underhand pass toward the other guard<br>scissoring past a flat-footed defender</div><div style="margin:10px 0">who looks stunned and nailed to the floor<br>in the wrong direction, trying to catch sight</div><div style="margin:10px 0">of a high, gliding dribble and a man<br>letting the play develop in front of him</div><div style="margin:10px 0">in slow motion, almost exactly<br>like a coach's drawing on the blackboard,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">both forwards racing down the court<br>the way that forwards should, fanning out</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and filling the lanes in tandem, moving<br>together as brothers passing the ball</div><div style="margin:10px 0">between them without a dribble, without<br>a single bounce hitting the hardwood</div><div style="margin:10px 0">until the guard finally lunges out<br>and commits to the wrong man</div><div style="margin:10px 0">while the power-forward explodes past them<br>in a fury, taking the ball into the air</div><div style="margin:10px 0">by himself now and laying it gently<br>against the glass for a lay-up,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">but losing his balance in the process,<br>inexplicably falling, hitting the floor</div><div style="margin:10px 0">with a wild, headlong motion<br>for the game he loved like a country</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and swiveling back to see an orange blur<br>floating perfectly though the net.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edward+Hirsch">Edward Hirsch</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374853" data-title="Fast Break de Edward Hirsch" data-description="A hook shot kisses the rim and/hangs there, helplessly, but doesn't drop,/and for once our gangly starting center/boxes out his man and times his jump/perfectly, gathering the orange leather/from the air like a cherished possession/and spinning ar..."></div> </div> </div>

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