Jim Thorpe
Born in May of Eighteen eighty-eight
Though the birth record is obscure
In Oklahoma, in a one room cabin
With brother Charlie, of that we're sure.
His father, Hiram, was a farmer
Mother, Mary James, a Pottawatomie
Descendant of the Chief, Black Hawk
A Warrior with an athletic history.
His Indian name of Wa-Tho-Huk
Translated meaning of “Bright Path”
As his future really seemed to be
Before the typical white man's wrath.
His twin brother passed away at nine
Then in the year, Nineteen, ought four
He attended the Carlisle Indian School
Where he learned football, track, and more.
Trained by legend, Glenn “Pop” Warner
Who had the unique insight to see
The young phenomenon evolving
Into, the great athlete, he would be.
All-American in Nineteen 0-nine
And soon, on the Olympic Team
Sailing across the sea to Sweden
The answer to many-a-youngster's dream.
He trained on board on the journey
And he must have done it very well
For he blew away his competitors
That's what, long lasting records tell.
In the Pentathlon and Decathlon
He won a Gold Medal in each
And it seemed any goal he went for
For him, would be an easy reach.
Gustav, the King of Sweden said it best
After the Nineteen twelve Olympics
“Sir, you are the greatest athlete in the world.”
After witnessing, Thorpe's sporting epics.
And, not one to stand on ceremony
That sometimes, great success can bring
He answered, honestly and simply
As they shook hands, and said, “Thanks, King.”
But, it came out after the Olympics
He'd played some semi-pro baseball
They said his medals were illegal
And the Committee issued a recall.
His name was removed from the records
And his Gold Medals taken away
But, with style he just moved on
To play the games he loved to play.
He signed with the New York Giants
And played with the Reds in Cincinnati
Ending up with the Boston Braves
On his baseball playing odyssey.
At the same time he played football
For teams like Canton, Cleveland, and Chicago
Helped form what is now, the NFL
Which a lot of folks probably don't know.
He worked for awhile in the movies
As boss of the Chicago Park System
Involved in matters of Indian Affairs
A song and dance troupe named after him.
He was named, “the greatest football player”
By the Associated Press in Nineteen fifty
And, “the greatest overall male athlete”
One of the best that we will ever see.
In Fifty-three he had a heart attack
And on the New York Times front page
They said we'd lost, “a marvelous performer”
From this world's sporting stage.
But he was so much more than that
With his dignity and quiet grace
One of those very special people
Who have made this world a better place.
He was subjected to the racism
That, “Indian athlete” and “Redskin”
And it eventually took it's toll
Lead to poverty and alcoholism.
Thirty years after his passing
His Olympic Medals were finally restored
Along with many posthumous honors
Much too late, for his just reward.
He's just another great American
Born of the Natives of this land
Who never knew and/or never saw
Real American freedoms, take a stand.
Related quotes
A Boyhood Sporting Hero
Most boys have their sporting heroes and mine played Gaelic Football
The mighty Mick O Connell the greatest I recall
But Mick O played for Kerry and Cork my favourite team
And to play football good as him was many school boy's dream
The finest Gaelic Footballer that I have ever seen
Not rough or hard in any way but classical and clean
And though that was many years ago and far so far away
Of great player from Valentia the memory with me stay.
When Mick O's playing days were over he faded from the scene
But memories of his playing feats will remain evergreen
His high fielding and kicking and his passing of the ball
The complete Gaelic Footballer the greatest of them all.
He never hogged the limelight he seemed so quiet and shy
But he was sporting hero to many school going boy
And even many who did not support Kerry will still tell you today
That Valentia's Mick O Connell was the best they had seen play.
My hero played for Kerry and Cork my favourite team
And to be good a player as him an early teenage dream
But as a Gaelic Footballer I never made the grade
And I won't be remembered for any game I played.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On Hearing A Song For Christy Ring
Amazing how a song can stir up memories
And only lately heard a ballad singer sing
A famous song written by Brian McMahon
For Ireland's greatest hurler Christy Ring.
He was known as the Cork and Glen Rovers wizard
And he depicted the spirit of the Glen
And what set Ring apart from all the others
Was that he had in him this great desire to win.
Eighteen Railways cups and eight All Ireland medals
The record of his combined medal tally stand
He played for Cork when he was in his forties
And held his own with the best in Ireland
For the St Nicholas club Christy Ring played Gaelic Football
And at football many better one could name
But he only played because of club devotion
As hurling always was his preferred game.
But 'twas for Gaelic football Christy Ring I will remember
And that incident from the fifties I recall
In Macroom when the St Nicholas team played Millstreet
In a game that ended in an all in brawl.
A brawl that involved both sets of supporters
For Gaelic football 'twas a shameful day
And for the punch up both sides blamed each other
And who is wrong or right who is to say
And on that day Christy Ring met with misfortune
In an incident that few if any saw
And the next morning we read in the sporting headlines
How Ring was suffering from a broken jaw.
Some said a Millstreet fellow king hit Christy
But others seemed to think that wasn't so
That by a famed Cork hurler Ring's jaw had been broken
An old score settled on that day years ago.
And what happened back then to this day still a mystery
Nor is it likely now that we will ever know
When perhaps only two knew the late Christy Ring the victim
And the angry man who landed that fierce blow.
Amazing how a song can stir up memories
And only lately heard a ballad singer sing
A famous song written by Brian McMahon
For Ireland's greatest hurler Christy Ring.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On The Retirement Of Ian Thorpe
I heard on the radio in the sports news today
That Ian Thorpe the great swimmer has give competitive swimming away
A winner of nine Olympic medals five of them gold
Of his greatness in story and song we've been told
Australia's greatest ever swimmer if not the World's best
He was never found to be wanting when put to the test
But at twenty four years he said enough for me
At the World Championships and the Olympics him we'll never more see
At the prime of his life one might say a young man
But at top competitive swimming top swimmers do not have a long span
In the World of swimming he is an all time great
And his world Championship and Olympic victories Aussies did celebrate
A world renowned swimmer since he was a boy
And life after competitive swimming may he now enjoy.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Chinese Style Olympia 2008
How great it was in Beijing Olympia
Wisdom and Intellect are it answers.
Used a lot of capitals and manpower
Most sports performed in a bird’s nest
Swimming sports were in a water cubic
Our concept was ‘one man, one dream’
Every body may have the same dreaming
No matter you are Chinese or guests
Bring the same heart to look for success
The starting day performed marvelous shows
Men and women made shapes of symbols
One day by one day different races were in safe
Chinese athletes happily raced with guests
Both the Chinese and the foreigners were happy
American athlete seemed like a swimming jet
He made excellent results gained 8 gold medals
Frog’s style swim champion is a Japanese king
Grouped winner named by the youth of Chinese
American athletes have won world’s success
There were many new and young athletes born
Different races were greatly gaining high results.
Competition was not the main purpose
Chinese needed the world’s united friendship
It’s why we build a nest you comes together
Let the peace forever consists for a whole world
poem by Albert Wong
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Sincere Thanks
Sincere thanks to the Africans who,
Made us proud at the Beijing 2008 Olympic Games;
For there their talents were exposed to the world.
Thanks to Kenya who got the total of 14 medals:
Made up of 5 Gold medals,5 Silver medals and 4 Bronze medals.
Thanks to Ethiopia who got the total of 7 medals:
Made up of 4 Gold medals, a Silver medal and 2 Bronze medals.
Thanks to Zimbabwe who got the total of 4 medals:
Made up of a Gold medal and 3 Silver medals.
Thanks to Cameroon who got a single Gold medal,
Thanks to Tunisia who got a single Gold medal,
Thanks to Nigeria who got the total of 4 medals:
Made up of a Silver medal and 3 Bronze medals.
Thanks to Algeria who got 2 medals:
Made up of a Silver medal and a Bronze medal.
Thanks to Morocco who got 2 medals:
Made up of a Siver medal and a Bronze medal.
THanks to South Africa who got a single Silver medal,
Thanks to Sudan who got a single Silver medal,
Thanks to Egypt who got a single Bronze medal,
Thanks to Mauritius who got a single Bronze medal,
And tanks to Togo who also got a single Bronze medal.
You've really made Africa proud and we do thank you all!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I think the greatest all-around athlete ever was Jim Brown. He played lacrosse, basketball and ran track at Syracuse. He played professional football for the Browns.
quote by Will McDonough
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A Golden Moon (Olympic Poem)
Tonight, over Great Britain, there's a golden moon,
As, over our Olympic athletes, we proudly swoon.
Between them all, they won plenty of medals,
Particularly those, whose power needs pedals.
We saw faces streaming with tears of pride;
We saw faces beaming with smiles, so wide.
Our Team GB athletes are the toast of our nation,
And they have helped to inspire a new generation.
All of our athletes, competing on home turf,
Showcased their skills and showed their worth.
They performed with great energy and with zest;
Many proving that they are the World's very best.
Each of them gave it their all, and they did us proud;
They were cheered on their way by an eager crowd.
They showed us that now was their moment to shine,
And up the medals table, our team quickly climbed.
They all felt a great sense of pride within their heart,
And they all felt honoured to have played their part.
Many personal bests and new world records were set.
The Olympic Games of 2012, we will never forget.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Young David The Under Fourteen
With the local football club he plays under fourteen
In their football colours the black, brown and green
He dreams in the A F L he will star one day
Against Australia's finest he will be picked to play.
Everytime I see young David he's with the egg shaped ball
Playing by himself or with other boys in the park for his age he is tall
His dream is to play as number one ruckman for his favourite team Geelong
Enjoying a great victory as he sings the Club song.
Most boys of his age have a wish or a dream
To win a gold medal or play with a top football team
But not all dreams do come true everyone can't know fame
Still it is nice to dream of great things just the same.
He is the top ruckboy in his football team
And as a player of promise he knows local esteem
But few good juvenile players into great players grow
And young David he still has a long way to go.
poem by Francis Duggan
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1984
Nineteen eighty four
Someday they wont let you
Now you must agree
The time they are a telling
And the changing isnt free
You read it in the tea leaves
And the reacks are on tv
Beware the savage jaw
In nineteen eighty four
Theyll split your pretty cranium
And fill it full of air
Theyll tell you that youre eighty
And really you wont care
Youll be shooting up on everything
Tomorrows never there
Beware the savage jaw
In nineteen eighty four
Come see come see
Remember me
I played in an all night movie role
You said it would last
But I guess weve enrolled
In nineteen eighty four
Who could ask for more
Nineteen eighty four
Who could ask for more
Im looking for a vehicle
Im looking for a ride
Im looking for a party
Im looking for a side
Im looking for a treason
That I knew in sixty five
Beware the savage door
In nineteen eighty four
Come see come see
Remember me
I played in an all night movie role
You said it would last
But I guess weve enrolled
In nineteen eighty four
Who could ask for more
Nineteen eighty four
Who could ask for more
Nineteen eighty four
song performed by by Tina Turner
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Christy Ring
I'll tell you about a great hurler he hurled his way into renown
And his fame spread distant from Cork City through many a village and town
He inspired the poets to write of him and the song writers his praises did sing
And he was the hurler of all Seasons the one and only Christy Ring.
He was born in the year nineteen twenty and he died in nineteen seventy nine
And he played from the thirties until the late sixties and as he aged he matured like good wine
He won eighteen Railway cup medals a record that will never be beat
Yet he was a down to earth fellow a man who was free of conceit.
Of him there has been many stories his imprint in hurling he made
As long as hurling is played he will be remembered for the many great games that he played
In Cork, Limerick, Thurles and Killarney and in Dublin in famed Croke Park
In his three marvellous decades of hurling the wizard from Cloyne left his mark.
When I was a boy in the fifties Christy Ring in his mid thirties then
Yet still one of Ireland's best hurlers he helped Cork and Glen Rovers to many a win
He revelled in fierce competition and even in his forties played against the best
And he always worried his opponents the hurler who always impressed.
The Cork and the Glen Rovers wizard his fame spread beyond Ireland's shore
his name will live as long as the game of hurling and that will be forever more
He inspired the poets to write of him and the song writers of him did sing
And he was the hurler of all Seasons the legendary Christy Ring.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Another Olympic Games For The Wealthy Only
Another Olympic games for the wealthy only doesn't life seem so unfair
In the Athens Olympic Stadium there won't be many there
Who live on a low income or struggle to get by on welfare
And who should win the medals why should I even care?
In life only the so called losers are those that interest me
The people who to circumstance must live in poverty
They won't be at the Olympics for to cheer their heroes on
Or to sigh in disappointment with hopes of a medal gone.
The Olympics ought to be re-named as the Games of Nationalistic Pride
And Athens 04 the destination of millionaires Worldwide
Waving their National flags and banners their patriotism on display
And that money speaks all languages is very relevant to today.
Another Olympic games for the wealthy only in a World of so much poverty
Just a vulgar show of wealth and Nationalistic pride at the opening and closing ceremony
And the have nots must feel content for to watch it on the t v
And which Nation's athletes are the most successful such things won't be worrying me.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Young Fellow Next Door
The young fellow next door barracks for Hawthorn
And after school he kicks the egg shaped ball
He wants to be as great as Jason Dunstall
And that his name football historians will recall.
He wants to don the brown and gold of Hawthorn
And star in a grand final winning team
But the road ahead won't be easy for Tony
If one day he's to realize his dream.
If he is to be a great footy player
He must train hard for twelve months every year
He must impress the coaches and football scouts
And stay well clear of narcotics and beer.
The young fellow next door says he'll be famous
And that for the Hawthorn Football club he'll Play
And that he will be the talk of all Australia
Ten years from now on the grand final day.
A nine year old with big dreams is the schoolboy Tony
He says i'll be an Aussie sporting great
And i will lead Hawthorn back to glory
And the footy fans my name will celebrate.
On every street there is one like young Tony
Who has this dream of an enduring fame
Who is the hero of the great Grand Final
And kicks the famous goal that wins the game.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Denny Long Of Annagloor
A two time All Star Gaelic Footballer about him he inspired many a song
The pride of Cork and Millstreet the marvellous Denny Long
Arguably Ireland's finest midfielder when he was in his prime
The memory of his greatness will not fade out in time.
His great positional sense and accurate kicking was a pleasure to behold
And the story of his rise to fame it often has been told
From Annagloor to Croke Park he made it all the way
The cheers rang out for Denny on All Ireland Football Final day.
A Gaelic Football legend of the seventies the years have left him slow
But he was quite a hero some three decades ago
So stylish and athletic Sportsmen like him are rare
And with the best in Ireland he surely do compare.
It was a privilege to have seen him play he was a credit to the game
All Irelands, All Stars and County Championship medals and one who knew great fame
His lengthy and accurate kicking his great useage of the football
A great player the Gaelic Football fans remember and recall.
He reached heights in Gaelic Football that only few attain
And though his better days behind him the memories remain
Of Denny Long of Annagloor a Gaelic Football great
He often gave us reason for to cheer and celebrate
poem by Francis Duggan
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We Thank Them For The Memories
Boxing had Muhammad Ali his greatness beyond dispute
And cricket had Don Bradman and baseball had Babe Ruth
And rock and roll had Elvis referred to as the king
And hurling had it's hero in Cork's own Christy Ring.
Gaelic football had Mick O Connell in his code best of all
And soccer had Brazil's great Pele the black prince of football
And Hollywood had Norma Jean alias Marilyn Monroe
A legendary beauty of the silver screen some forty years ago
And athletics had Carl Lewis and Jesse Owens, Zatopek and Nurmi and Australia's best athlete
Herb Elliot the legendary miler who never tasted defeat
And tennis had Maureen Connolly the legendary Little Mo
Though she died young her fame still lives from all those years ago.
In the swimming pool Dawn Fraser at three Olympics won sprint gold
And of the greatness of the winter Olympian Jean Claude Killy we've been told
And in basketball Michael Jordan is man of the century
And in rugby union David Campese made his own history.
I have mentioned here some people who were revered and admired
They were role models for many and many by them were inspired
And add to them the name of Willie Shoemaker perhaps horse racing's greatest name
He rode thousands of winners on his great journey to fame.
As legends in their chosen field one could mention many more
But father time takes care of all as we've often heard before
And though we thank them for the memories they too had their day
And for the up and coming they too had to make way.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Willie Boy
Willie Neenan from Millstreet
What a marvellous athlete
Twenty years in time have gone
Since he won a world silver medal in San Juan.
Munster and All Ireland's by the score
And other medals many more
Willie Boy was always best
Neenan first forget the rest.
Seventy years and still going great
And still a name to celebrate
More than two tousand races won
By Willie Neenan number 1.
What was he like in his prime
And that's going back a long, long time
He was something special then
And he outpaced the fastest men.
He's not one for self conceit
And he doesn't boast he just compete
Never ever heard him brag
Willie Boy is no windbag.
He'll remember eighty three
What a pleasant memory
Ireland's best and Millstreet's pride
With the World's best matched stride for stride.
And with that his greatest success far away
Some say he should have called it a day
But has he reached retirement stage
when he still beats fellows half his age?
Running he will never stop
And he'll keep running till he drop
And he'll retire that's when he die
The one and only Willie Boy.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I didn't train to make the Olympic team until 1968. I simply trained for the moment. I never even imagined I would be an Olympic athlete. It always seemed to evolve.
quote by Dick Fosbury
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The Woman Five Doors Down
The woman five doors down tells me her son Ted is the best player in the school football team
And that one day he will play in an A.F.L. Grand Final and that more than once of late she's had this dream
Of watching him receive the Coleman medal for best on ground on football's biggest day
Watched by well over ninety thousand people who cheer him on with a loud hip hooray.
But locals who know of football and watched Ted play say he will never play at the top grade
That he won't go down Swanston Street in the back of a lorry
to loud applause in the Grand Final Parade
They say his mother greatly over rates him and that in his team he's just an average player
And that not one in his club will play A.F.L. football with good under age players they do not compare
Ted's mother believes her son will be a football hero and she seemed so convinced that she convinced me
But others who have seen him play say different and with her opinions they do not agree
They say that she will end up disappointed that her dreams for her son will not come true
That he won't make a career out of football another line of work he must pursue.
The woman five doors down tells me her son Ted will one day play in the famed M.C.G.
And be the hero of a great Grand Final in a game that will go down in history
And though others seem to think that she's only dreaming I hope her son will be a football great
And that she will applaud him in the Grand Final and the football fans his name will celebrate.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Willie Neenan Is Still Running
Willie Neenan is still running as running to him is as much a part of his life
As the lives of his athletic daughters and of Marie his good wife
An Irish champion in his seventies and an Irish champion in his prime
No doubt Millstreet's greatest athlete he's proved that time after time.
Willie Neenan is still running to me that comes as no surprise
He runs in sunny weather and when the rain pours from the skies
He has run in the depths of Winter in the frost and in the snow
Willie Neenan was a champion more than fifty years ago.
He won a World silver medal for Ireland at the Master's Games in San Juan in eighty three
Losing out on gold by the narrowest of margins in his surge for victory
The Pipers band came out to play for him in Millstreet his Hometown
He had proved himself against the World's best cannot keep a good one down.
Willie Neenan is still running his great victories we recall
Of Millstreet's many famous athletes the most famous of them all
He was an Irish champion when I was a schoolboy
And he will go on running until the day he die.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Team G.B. You Have Made Us All Proud
The Olympic games two thousand and twelve,
All our athletes have filled us with pride,
Into their achievements we will now delve,
We have cast all our differences aside.
We have won a magnificent twenty nine gold,
Although it has been a long wait,
This is our best games it has to be told,
Since the year nineteen hundred and eight.
Andy Murray won the final at tennis,
Bradley Wiggins won his at a speed,
Then came heptathlete Jess Ennis,
Mo Farah showed them all how to lead.
Victoria Pendleton got it right on her bike,
Baillie and Stott showed them how to canoe,
Glover and Stanning for Gold they did strike,
Hoy, Hindes and Kenny saw their rides through.
Nicola Adams won the fight of her life,
Jade Jones did the taekwondo,
Luke Campbell overcame the strife,
Anthony Joshua fought toe to toe.
Then there's Rowsell, King and Laura Trott,
Greg Rutherford knew where he was going,
Ben Ainslie always gives us all he has got,
As do Hosking and Copeland when they're rowing.
Bechtolsheimer, Dujardin and Getty Won dressage,
Triathlon was won by Brownlee,
Laura Trott striking gold was not a mirage,
Gregory, James, Hodge and Reed let them see.
Thomas, Kennaugh, Clancy, and Burke,
They won the team pursuit,
Watson and Grainger knew how to work,
Peter Wilson showed his rivals how to shoot.
Skelton, Maher, Charles and Brash,
They taught the world how to ride,
Ed McKeevers opponents he did thrash,
Our Olympic success will not be denied.
Seventeen silver and nineteen bronze,
Is further testament to our countries success,
All who competed are now our icons,
They're our champions no more no less.
The great British spirit is alive and well,
For that we must all shout out loud,
It's your legacy on which we must now dwell
Old Jimmy
With the aid of walking stick he shuffles down the side street and time has left him looking stiff and gray
And truly it can be said of old Jimmy that he is one who has known a better day
Ageless father time takes care of everybody there was a time when he could run quite fast
But now he only can walk at a slow pace and all of his better days are in the past.
He was a football hero in his heyday the best on ground in nineteen forty one
The day that his club played in the Grand Final without him the Premiership could not be won
Close to his prime and in his early twenties on looking back that seems so long ago
It's true that time leaves it's mark on everybody the man who once ran fast now walking slow.
The hard games of football he played in now on him telling he has arthritis in his painful right knee
An injury that forced him into retirement when he was past his prime at thirty three
Back in the forties and fifties he was a football hero but football heroes like the seasons come and go
And that he once was a Grand Final hero is something few young people wish to know.
Old Jimmy slowly shuffles down the side walk a mere shell of the man he used to be
In forty one he starred in the Grand Final when he was near his prime at twenty three
And father time has left his mark on Jimmy and time 'tis said for anyone doesn't wait
And the grim reaper will take the king and pauper and the grim reaper will take the football great.
poem by Francis Duggan
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