“C’mon little Davo, the ball’s bounced and there’s no more waiting.”

I climb on the couch as my Dad begins explaining,
“Essendon, little Davo, is the team that we’ll be barracking.
You’ll see running and jumping and kicking and handballing.”
“Aha,” grins Dad – “Can you believe it’s now raining.”
The game goes on and no-one’s complaining.
It’s fun as I watch their clothes become muddy with staining.
“C’mon umpire, that’s holding the ball,” says Dad exclaiming.
“Pass the ball son, you’re not out there training.”

I think about telling Dad they can’t hear but decide it’s simpler refraining.
The Bombers scored a goal and now there’s ten minutes remaining.
Dad jumps out of his chair and screams, “That’s amazing!”
Dad’s so excited ‘cause now his team’s gaining.
The player looks high at the posts and kicks while aiming.
The Bombers have won and the crowd is dancing and waving.
My Dad thinks he’s there and is clapping and raving.

I look from my Dad to the screen and wonder which is more entertaining.