I have not met many people in my many years on this planet who lived life with as much enthusiasm and joy as University of California Bears and NFL quarterback great, Joe Kapp. He died at the age of 85 this past Monday. I find myself honored that I was born in the same year 1938 as Joe, I have a lot of memories of Joe from as far back as our college days when I played for Saint Mary's and he played for the Bears, but so do most athletes of that time. Joes Kapp stories are filled with great athletic exploits, hijinks, memorable quotes, and deeply felt beliefs.
I wrote the following poem that is in my recent collection of poetry, Clear Path for Joe.
SOUL
For
Joe Kapp
Yesterday, among men of my generation
of athletes, gray haired, aging
and aged, Joe Kapp, wild man, Mexican/Indian,
famous for his exploits
on the football field, still wild, there like the
rest of us to honor a great
dead coach, embraced me. And I embraced back,
hearing him whisper
in my ear the word, Soul as if he was
imparting to me a special secret
he’d discovered on his journey into the valley of
dementia.
Too many knocks on the old noggin fuck it who gives a shit, didn’t we
have some good times? Was
he telling me I had a soul or that souls
were present in this room, wafting through the
air with the bravado
stories of our heroics? Oh, that we were ever
so young and athletic
and destined for greatness. Was he pouring from the cup of his mouth
some special knowledge into my ear, a warm and
blessed liquid. O My Soul,
was that you, coming to me when I least expect
it, announcing your existence
among so many good men, through the mouth of this
man, shaman
of expletives, high priest of stories and fists,
and laughs, and beers
and hijinks that I recall left us all breathless,
filled with good humor? O Joe,
quarterback, who never ran out of bounds because
only gringos do, wild,
violent Joe, have you given me a parting gift, a
piece of the eternal puzzle?
