Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Journey Poem

Hole 18. Par 5. 461 yards.
Almost on in two, but hooked left.
Who cares?
I don’t – I can’t.
The only number
That has any meaning is ((3)).

No more hazards.

I now stood there beneath the tree. Focused.
I could see the Field. I knew the
Line. I anticipated the
Break.

No more roughs.

There was a light breeze on this bright day.
But beneath the tree,
I was shaded.
The branches had blocked the sun and all
Distractions.

No fair way.

I could not think of anything else. The past 17 holes
Mean nothing. Gone were the sounds of success
(Whoosh, Ping, Oooh, Aaah, Thwump, Whack) and
Failure (Chick, Snap, Crunch, Kurplunk, Oh).

No score.

Hands gripped to the club. Feet on the ground.
Arms up and followed through. Textbook
Swing. The ball bounces and rolls.
And rolls.
And rolls.
And rolls off.

No chance.

That was the moment I saw the most beautiful spectacle fly away:
An Eagle

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Feature Snippet

Riding the bus to class is the preferred method for some CMU students who live off-campus, but not for Josh Allard.

“You cannot guarantee that the bus arrives on time, and that was a big problem for me,” the Troy Junior said. “My first busing experience was unpleasant: it was warm, crowded, and it arrived late. I was very unhappy.”

Allard instead chooses to drive himself to campus, saying for him it is more comfortable, convenient and reliable.

“I can come and go as I please,” he said. “I can make sure I get to class on time, and that was the reason I stopped taking the bus after day one.”

Allard does recognize that for some students, it is the best method to reach campus, saying that is will save gas and help the environment.

“It isn’t a terrible choice,” he said. “It is the efficient choice, but unfortunately for me, I found that it wasn’t.”