Champion

 

Occasionally a stranger 

Will come up to me 

And tell me how much 

My father meant to them.

 

The ones who met him 

Were amazed by his kindness,

His utter lack of swagger -

The champion with the humble smile.

 

I try to explain

That was just how he was.

It never would have occurred to him 

To behave any differently.

 

There was nothing performative 

About his humility. 

He felt in his bones 

That everyone is a champion.

 

He was, on every level, 

The genuine article:

Man, athlete, thinker,

And, above all, human being.

 

It may sound like hero worship -

Like boyish idolatry -

But not to those who knew him. 

They nod, and they understand.

 

Sometimes it almost seems 

Like they’re expecting me to argue. 

Your father was a great man, they say,

And I think: You don’t know the half of it.