these heroes, so distant

these heroes, so distant
far away and long ago
it’s a struggle to recall
how much I once cared
about antics with bat and ball

an early attempt at figuring out
what was worth following
developing the techniques of
historical immersion in pursuit of insights
picking sides on forgotten controversies
and raking over the coals for hints and directions

now I blanch at their ineloquence
the familiar cliches of the athlete
held to fast as the white invades their temples and moustaches
and their hairlines call stumps
the glories are still there as long as they genuflect
to their pat phrases and worn justifications

not that some of the rock’n’rollers or beats
that replaced them in my pantheon
were that much more articulate in their own ways
often fighting their way out of paper bags
wet with their own spillage

but that’s the thing about heroes of course
that they rarely benefit from close scrutiny
best leave them on the shelf
in their own dust
part of what we become but
not really wanted on voyage