"Hey. I'm looking for two poems, like in a collection. I don't care what other stuff is in the book, I might like it too. But it has to have these two poems."
Uh-oh. I've had these requests before.
"Well, our computer doesn't list what's in each anthology, but I can try. I like poems."
"Okay--Just then, we are interrupted by another clerk.
"Hey aren't you [John Doe] that plays [position] for the [pro team]?
"Yeah, I am. Hey, thanks."
He turns back to me, a pro player not to be diverted from the goal.
"The first poem is If-- by Rudyard Kipling, but I don't know the name of the second poem."
Uh-oh. I've had these requests before.
"Do you know anything about it? Maybe we can figure it out." That's a Hail Mary, you understand.
"Yes, I do." He straightens up. "Out of the night that covers me--"
"Oh, that's one of my favorites," I exclaimed. "It's Invictus by W.E. Henley."
"You know it??!!" he exclaims back. "It's like the best."
On either side of the Info desk, we step back and start chanting. In unison.
"Out of the Night that covers me
Black as the Pit from pole to pole
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
Our voices get louder. People start edging away.
"In the fell clutch of Circumstance.
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeoning of Chance
My head is bloody but unbowed.
Beneath this path of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the Shade
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid."
Our fists come up, each of us, at the same time. By then, Info Desk has evacuated. We're triumphant, invincible, our voices ringing out--
"It matters not how straight the gate
How charged with punishment the scroll
I am the Master of my Fate
I am the Captain of my Soul."
.
We grin at each other. He relaxes. "Yeah, that one. Do you have a book like that?"
"We can check tables of contents," I said. "Let's just go look in the stacks."
So this post is for SlamDunk. He's written two great blog posts on extraordinary football players, here and here.
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