The King of the Cage by Ken Mahon

Before each game of lax, I walk

Across the field to the lines of chalk

That ring an area that I lease

I am the goalie and that is my crease.

I look around to get a feel

Of the bounces, that fate will deal.

What will be of a shot that is low and skipped?

And the deflected ones that are tipped?

When the sticks start moving about the field,

It is never early to spot those that Shooters wield.

There are some, who shoot from left or right,

And others, who shoot with all their might.

I look for Shooters who I must always mind,

They are those who fake and slip behind.

I notice Shooters who can split defenders,

And watch out for any other shot contenders.

The Defenders circle the crease and my mesh

Ever ready for their pound of flesh

They all have appetites that'll never cease

As they feast on enemy players near the crease.

I stand in a circle with walls that are tall and steep.

The net is my castle and the crease is my keep.

I look out, as if down from a fort high upon a hill

Firm in my purpose-confident in my skill.

Outside my castle is where the battle will rage,

And I am, of course, the king of the cage.

My task is to repel any and all aggression

Each time the other team has possession.

I hope that my defenders will slide

And push all attackers down the side.

I turn when the ball goes behind

And rake for a turnover in the grind.

When the cutter moves in and out,

He is located by a shout.

I try to scoop the ball and grab it near

I need to get it back and out of here.

The shots are launched from all directions,

Launched like rockets and other projections.

Too many Shooters are really a hassle

When they move in and about my castle.

I fear most, however, the Shooter on the run

With the ball, his ammo, and stick, his gun.

He is the one who breaks away from the pack

Looking left and right for his attack.

I watch him closely as he breaks,

And hear his breath with each step he takes.

Will he make it, I wonder, or will his legs tire

Before his loaded gun is ready to fire?

The Middies race back into the hole,

Defenders all slide to prevent a goal.

I read the Shooter for a pass, shot or fake

And try to guess what decision he will make.

I hear in the distance "He's all right!"

But will not move until his eyes are in sight.

I hope my hands are quick enough

If the Shooter unloads and his shot is tough.

The thrill of my job, despite the fear

That a goal might score, on a ball that's near,

Are the goals that I get to take away-

From the Shooters in the games that I play.

Anyone who guards a cage without a key

Knows what it's like to be a lacrosse goalie.

Anyone who wants to try on my shoes

Need only start by stopping a ball that moves.

Some think that you must really be nuts,

Others say that it's a matter of guts-

To stand in a cage and confront your fear

Facing shot after shot with little or no gear.

Today all of the players of all ages

Join in with the Kings of the Cages.

Thanks for answering the knock on your door

Thanks for facing Shooters, Shooters and more!

This poem is really good. It tells of every aspects if a defensive player or the goalie. The author seems to know a lot about lacrosse and has some experience playing which means writing this poem came from the heart for him.