Stanz The Man

You would have dug it

Man, the party they threw

For you, your family and friends

You know, Them, the ones

You knew, those folks who knew you

As the epitome of cool

Cool in every sense or the word

Mister Consistency

Cool McCool

That real-heavy Irish skinny-dude

The mellow edge

Clowning Harpo fool

Pool ball, my ass!

You could get a hardball

In that mouth, a Martha Raye

Caliber yap, Joe E. Brown


No wonder the umps

Kept a close eye on you

Your spitter was tough enough

To catch, let alone hit

Scary shit, like that hippity-hop

Icy three point shot

You could drill from anywhere

On the court, sure as the free

Throws, count ‘em, hundreds of

Successive days, shots made

All those misses taught you

No regrets, everyone counted on you

To be you, to be there, to be square

Where you were always at

Honest and fair, you looked like

A surfer dude in a letterman’s jacket

Too cool for a jarhead jock,

You wrote the book on surprise

Belied by cover design

Your type-of-stereo was rockin’

And rollin’ the sweet stuff in the air

But you were never so high

The lows didn’t affect your soul

Compassion knows how to sing the blues

And you knew the clock was ticking

You knew how to focus

How to pay attention, how to

Concentrate and how to listen

Didn’t have time to let people down

You used every minute to lift us

Up, be good, you said what you meant

Be happy, be true, love listening to

All the music in the world

And play it loudly, play it soft,

Play it all night long

You taught us, Stanz, to dig

Singing songs, to play hard

As we can till we drop, like you

Play for the fun of it

And always pay it forward, Man,

Pass that ball, that torch, that number

That score, never Bogart, Hobart

The baton, for Christ’s sake

Pass that sucker over, share

Be aware and take the open shot

It’s our duty, Man, to pass you along

You will live on in each of us

Cool Hand Stanz

Billy the Kid, some claim

Having too much fun shouldn’t be done

You knew there was only one limit

Don’t hurt anyone, live

In that zone, the quick release, count it

Sure as that smile and soft voice

Out the side of your mouth

Sidling up to confide some story

We believed you contrived

Especially for us in that space and time

Locking us in with those blue

Laser eyes and flashing that little grin

That made us feel cool as you inside

Way too cool to lose or give in

So keep on keepin’ on in us, my friend

Keep groovin’ us, groomin’ us

To love doing the drill, Bill, you knew

That practice is the game, Man

It’s all about the rhythm

That’s why the music exists

We’ve got to love

How and why we play


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One Response to Stanz The Man

  1. Amina says:

    i love your posts, but i like this one more than the others, so i read it all over again.

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