An ode to MACtion

Short weeks pair with short

days, the haze of fall endures.

The nights, long with cold.

---

Midwest traditions

The leaves falling underfoot

Cider, apples, and ball.

---

Halloween sets scenes

Lights illuminate the fields

There’s nothing to fear.

---

Twelve cities, spread out,

Unite under a common

Love of the big game.

---

Air hanging cold, fresh.

Anticipation, as well.

The music plays. It begins.

---

Four weeks and twelve teams.

Pads meet, cleats compete for space.

On the biggest stage.

---

Mad, euphoric dash

Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays too.

The screens flicker soft.

---

Boys of Saturday

Will conquer the weeknights

Seasons on the line.

---

Rivalries to start

Divisions up in the end

Battle for vic’try.

---

In the end, there’s two.

One East, One West, to rule all.

Detroit, the shining city.

---

One will trophy lift,

A life-long accomplishment.

The other, fuel.

---

The boys of the fall

Decide all in winter’s breath

Covered in its grace.

---

MACtion, the beauty.

Imperfect, but it’s our own.

Unique, and beloved.