77: A Hoosier Hustle
By Jim Gandolf
'77: A Hoosier Hustle
(poem)©️2025
Jim Gandolf
Twelve years old, the world a-tilt,
A hopeful heart, on dreams it built.
The Pacers, our team, on shaky ground,
Would they stay here, or move from our town?
From ABA champs to NBA's call,
Now whispers of loss, a potential fall.
My small hands, busy, no time for dread,
As bottles returned piled higher than my head.
The mower's hum, a summer's song,
Across green lawns, where I belonged.
Winter's bite, a frosty sting,
Shovel scraping, what coins it would bring.
Then ruby red, from vine to cart,
Tomatoes sold, each a work of art.
Door to door, with childish plea,
A small entrepreneur, just wanting to see
The Pacers stay, their future bright,
While I chased dimes in the fading light.
An odd year, indeed, a mix of old and new,
A boy's simple toil, and a city's plea, too.
Jim Gandolf
@2025 ©️2025
From remembering the ABA Pacers to what I witnessed last night was nothing but pure joy from Billy Keller, George McGinnis, and all the other players from before like Riggie Miller this is basketball. This is Indiana.
#TheHoosierHustle77
From Market Square Arena to what we have now a work of our place to play and called home!
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