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Dom Root

High School Days


Ive always been solid with my words But i felt way more official With the grass beneath my cleats The crowd calling out the cheaters. And with the refs blowing extra whistles, Cause uncle jo and them wouldnt Stop cussing from the stands I used to love playing football And before then use to jus watch it, Grew up in LA, a loose rocket Tried to stay out of trouble And avoid all the gang shit And hood politics... They called me Jamaica funk And every play i made My family use to jump And coach raby, he pull my to the side And sing the words to that old Chaka Khan Song Jamaica Funk thats what it is! The football field is where i found my release It was something introduced to me While only a kid 4 years old It was the sport that taught me to achieve my goals And how to carry my loads... Sunday was for watching the pros College and Pop Warner on Saturdays And Friday Night Lights Had me feeling like I too could get drafted, Ball out, you know Get a crib like the ones In the magazines Football, it helped me to dream, And in team sports You need a team... And tho society Tried vigorously to seperate us Ethnically, culturally,.and especially In the streets: The grid iron Those two a days showed us what it meant to be family... And from there we had to figure out how to shut out or atleast quiet down the growing pains of: RACE Wars Late Nights Underage drinking Gang Fights Low family income Food prices Police... Beating street lights... I guess the list could go on... From there we had to decide What exactly we wanted of this life And if we could identify the wrong Enough to come up with some right And some nights id be so sore I wouldnt want to move Limp to the table Just to smash on the food.... My moms took good care of me, Made sure i realized i could be anything, She bought jerseys, hats, foam fingers and shit.... I use to love playing football, at night Almost as much as we like to call off work In the mornings It was something i craved My scarlet and gold Mixed in dirt, The grass stains Are now just memories And proud moments.... Memories i miss, and now these moments from the otherside of the fence, I write this, amid the bleachers, Reaching for reminders of what it felt like to lead the tunnel, break the wedge, or catch a nigga slipping on the crack back block Tho from this sport derived dreams, Shit was a little more difficult than it seemed Not only did every other kid in LA want what i wanted, but young men all across the world shared the vision, not only that, but it seemed it could only be accompanied with a shit ton of other things: Concussion or a surgery Hyper Masculinity Lack of Authenticity Code Name for Slavery And Bitches looking to get drafted For fucking the next Troy man up... Its not always about the dream itself But the affects it has on everything else And the things you sacrafice to situate your self better today, for a tomorrow not guranteed .. The field brought my peace and underneath the lights, Now, i just find my seat, but back in the day boyyyy Football was where i found my release And it was a dream that took a while For me to release Cause i was one passionate ass motherfucker For a varsity unit that went 0-40... Not a game won, that mattered... And at the end of each season we gathered Tears, beers, and cheers for the good times, right... I never would have realized how it prepared me, for my new life... We lost every game! ... Which means I know these L's all to well To let anything else i put my mind to, fail... I viewed my losses As just lessons And i learned a lot In a little bit of time In order to ensure That no set of limitations Prevented me from Achieving whats next for life! I use to love playong football Thats right But ive moved on to my next life...

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