Dude mate fella
This dude is pulling 46-56 hours this long weekend and would rather be kickin’ a ball with y'all.
Out west there was a fella. His handle was “mate”, “friend”; at least that’s what the Plunderers called him; he never had much use for it himself. He answered to dude; “the dude” wasn’t a name most would self apply. There is a lot about the dude that didn’t make much sense. In the Manawatu, he was roaming football pitches kicken’ it. He wasn’t the fastest; he seemed to move some and yell a lot, but he tried. He never had link-up play with Messi or knocked the long ball to Ronaldo or saw the Dame in her undies, but he’s seen some shit… He seemed to be in the right place at the right time. It wasn’t always good; at times it was hell, but he kept showing up. Not much fazed him; he didn’t like it. He raged at times but quickly resumed one foot in front of the other. Some may call him a he — ro but mostly he hopes to be present. Just aware of the current moment. In that tiny space where stimulus is noxious, joyous, tragic, any stimulus gives him a pause to be. There, the dude can do nothing, or love, commiserate, show horror or just show up on the good days or bad ones. He can respond; he is able, or he can just be.
Te Wero (the Challenge)
Tranquility ~ no matter what happens, you control your response.
You can’t swim in or stir the pond to make the water clear; you can only wait and be still. Enjoy the moment; don’t get down on the game, the score or the rankings that steal the joy of play.
You lot roll wish I was there.