| 23 May 2011
Connor Huchton is a contributor for the SB Nation blog Rufus on Fire. He also runs his personal blog, connorhuchtonknowseverything.com and the Atlanta Braves baseball blog thebravecollective.wordpress.com. In this poem, Connor attempts to describe the magical play of Dirk Nowitzki. You can find him on Twitter, as well - @ConnorHuchton.
An Ode to Captain Dirk Nowitzki
He stands there, silently.
His stare may not be intense,
But it does not waver.
The crowd can only savor.
It began 24 seconds earlier.
24. 23. 22.
The clock is ticking down,
Challenging as it dwindles,
Blaring red.
For many, these moments are best left unsaid.
21. 20. 19.
A veteran dribbles the ball up the court,
Slowly, confidently,
He knows there is only one choice.
Only one way to make the crowd rejoice.
18. 17. 16.
He sees The Captain moving with ease,
With his own unique grace.
His long strides dominate the floor,
He glides without the need to soar.
15. 14. 13.
The Captain breaks free,
For what seems like a fragment of time.
But in his own reality, a reality that binds us all,
He is already free.
12. 11. 10.
The ball gravitates towards the Captain,
Traveling towards him with the purpose of fate.
The Captain accepts fate's request,
Catching the ball and turning with a mild-mannered zest.
9. 8. 7.
He glances at the wild-eyed defender,
Unconcerned with his plight.
He pivots, jabs, steps, and moves,
His feet a symbol of everlasting grooves.
6. 5. 4.
As he releases the ball,
His defender gasps in futility.
He knows it is too late.
The Captain has already decided fate.
3. 2. 1.
The Captain shoots on one leg,
As the crowd watches without breath or understanding.
Arching and spinning through the air on a golden course,
The ball moves slowly, as the screams of the crowd become hoarse.
0.
And suddenly, the net seems to move ever so slightly,
Just enough for the human eye to perceive.
The ball passes through,
And an arena's greatest wishes become true.
Reporters, teammates, and fans swarm around him,
He smiles sheepishly, knowingly.
He never allows his vision of the basket to murk.
His name is Captain Dirk.
Make it so.
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