Category Archives: Sports

Sports Addiction — Not Funny

14 Tuesday Mar 2017

Posted by in Addiction, Sports, Sports Addiction

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–by Bill Watkins 3/14/2017

Addiction Cycle

I have about a week of total abstinence from sports.

Some are laughing. Think this is funny, like passing out on alcohol or drugs on a Friday night.

I thought a lot of things were funny, that turned out to be life-threatening. Lost friends to alcoholism and drug addiction.

And sports?

It’s hard to find the words for wasted time. Time and energy spent trying to “beat” others, “defeat” others, and deceive others.

In most sports, Deception is a key element. A key thing learned and taught to gain advantage over other people, other teams or players.

At forty-four years of age, only a week abstinent from any sports involvement, I can report several problems with my past sports playing, coaching and supporting:

1. Unwanted Visions/Dreams/Nightmares

Volleyballs flying, tennis court visions, making plays—all irrelevant to my current life, and unwanted.

2. Physical injuries

I have a bad shoulder, knee from sports playing.

3. Alienation of Loved Ones

While my family of origin are addicts like me, my wife used to feel left out and puzzled by my sports obsession.

She used to comment, once while I watched the Olympics day and night on TV that she felt clearly that I was “addicted.”

***

I hope my unwanted sports visions will go away over time.

I think of the John Nash story, and of his walking away from unwanted visions and hallucinations, one day at a time.

I declare total abstinence from Sports today.

Join me, call me and reach out. Let’s walk away from the violence of sports to help others find blankets and a home tonight.

—Bill Watkins, Sports Addict

Life Changer

20 Tuesday Jan 2015

Posted by in Life, Sports

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Sports Anonymous

Weird waking up from apparent truth.

You wake to a new you, the one that failed
a wreck on the floor.

Step on him and walk away now—

Truth, justice, the American way,
no system above corruption we had
a coup too in 1963 not two, and you?

You told me sports was fun, you watched
it on TV, signed me up, it’s what was done;
be a kid, mess around, get a summer job,
go to school, college then you’re set.

I’m forty-two and not set yet.

Fight a war and “win,” where should
I start with that, I can’t hardly begin—

Peace is not a riddle; it’s written all over
the U.N. charter, beginning end and middle.

It’s easy except the Devil’s will to muck up
perfect, alter flows until who knows?

Even you can be an enemy of the state. Or
a new one create? When this one doesn’t
serve, retire to the peace in your mind
called peace of mind, knowing you did
your best take that John Wooden poster
out of your chest, fall down and get up again,
all heart and no play, makes Jack a healthy
president until they take him away…

Killed in the middle of the day. Blood and
wives, new president sworn in that red pool,
smiling and winking at his congressman friend,
LBJ—I guess he’s got a library too,

We have plenty of money to kill the enemies,
That Devil at work, convincing the shadow it’s you.

I leave and I live, have walked away from two
addictions: Sports and alcohol.

The game I played, the goals I scored, all at
the expense of the homeless man’s lack
of sleep, Jacqueline Kennedy’s PTSD,
we should have been her comfort and arrested
the men responsible for death and pain.

Instead we sent Dulles to manipulate results
away from Truth to Oswald the St. Patty’s Day
of Patsies, and we all stood stupefied,

Because if like me you had family money?

You went to college, played sports, kept
your grades up, and thanked God
for National Security.

And the U.N., shining blue in the night,
seeks our day, the light in us to shine.

Give up the sport, the fight, the clinking
golden false delight, Lord Dewar out of
sight!!

And Try. Just try…

On Sports

09 Friday May 2014

Posted by in Sports, Sportsmanship

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Sports

I believe that we will win.
Training starts, you start alone
or with a team, you see a prize
up ahead and dream.

You dream in church, you dream
in school, you dream before you
sleep, for dreaming for the successful
is the necessary first rule.

Love, passion, tears, blood—sweat.

For the glory of the game, God
help me shine today. Help me reach
inside, dig deep!! Show the world
what I got, get that prize within the lines,
you gave me a gift—here it is.

Dead in the water without its second part—
Sports is a dream we dream with our heart.

Reach across, shake a hand—this dream as
much about the respect for yourself
and others competing as how hard
you spike a ball upon the sand—reach out!!

It’s called sportsmanship. Sports men, sports
women, calling all people to achieve.
The window is small to be the best, but
even retired my favorite teams and stars
seem tatted on my chest, I love I yell
I write them along. To U.S. Soccer I sing a song!

Dodgers in my heart—not to say they’re all,
I love your team, too, especially off the field
when it’s said we must go that extra mile.

Make a child’s day, the child in us already
at play—you sacrifice it all for a podium,
cup, trophy don’t stall.

Get out there, you’re next

On Sportsmanship

09 Friday May 2014

Posted by in Sports, Sportsmanship

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Sportsmanship

You won the game—good!!
There was a loser in the game,
go over make them feel good—

Good!

There are two prizes in sport: the win
and how you carry the sport.

Perspective helps, I used to rant
and rave and throw tennis rackets.

I used to curse and trash-talk ‘til
sarcasm tore the flesh off roses.

I looked across and tried to tear you
down, instead of shaking hands
and lifting you off the ground.

Then I got a spiritual life and
started reaching high. I hate
losing still! But manage to find a win
within the loss, shake hands with
a friend who’s lost, make a joke,
reach across the net to the other side.

Score points with God when you keep
your cool, remember it’s a game.

Some day you’ll see, you’ll win the gold
and the other prize, the one that’ll make
you just as happy, a long-lasting chance
to remember back.

Remember friends made, you played
the game—kept your head up
respected yourself and others,

Now that’s how to play the game.

Must Like Volleyball? :)

28 Tuesday Jan 2014

Posted by in Poems, Poetry, Sports, Volleyball

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Bill Taylor’s A-15

This is not about a rocket ship,
flight low under radar dropping
bombs on innocent and guilty alike.

It’s about waking up in the morning,
deciding the beach is nice;

Drop volleyballs down on the sand,
kiss them goodnight.

It’s about a blonde sandy mop, two
boys dreaming to be great, too far
from the sun and sand to be too great.

Taylor and I shook it up, got lessons
in beach volleyball by its best lesson-
givers.

Indoors we dealt out some pain, depended
on the level, we always ruled the
small schools.

Then one foggy Christmas Eve, Taylor
came to Bruinville. He sizzled many
pits on his way to fifteen kills!!

That’s a volleyballer’s way to say:

The kid did allright!!

In the face of names like Sealy and
Landry all over six feet six, six feet
Taylor from Pasadena had his way,
passing nails and tooling blocks
like best craftsmen at your house
pulverizing concrete against a deadline.

Meanwhile, Watkins took to the sand
Smith left (Taylor’s other name was Smith).
Watkins’ other name was Bill.

On the sand he trained and failed,
trained and failed. Then won, then won,
then won, then won the next morning
putting him into the Winner’s bracket finals.

Then Won!

A-rated from nothing, inlander finding
a way with friends watching grunting too
loud but it’s forgivable at 5-4 to make it
6-4 on the switch, you dig moving left,
keep going that way getting the set to your
offside.

Thing is your beach “off” side is your indoor
ON-side, you revel in the movement, love
the dig then hit in a way that only Taylor
himself (Bill’s former setter) knows.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHH — !

That grunt resonated to the strand where
family friends watched.

Something there is that doesn’t like to lose.
That once you find a way to win, you rinse
and repeat it for as long as you can.

No more wading in the sand;
No more waiting for the band—

Smith and I like playing a harmonica
at the USC Trojan band—we’re on top!

We all deserve it once, Taylor and I got
it twice, once is his, once is mine, but when
I add the moments up in my head I always
get “sublime.”