Mr. Man
“Aw shucky shucky na’, Mr. Man”.
“That boy big ain’ he?”
“Yes indeed, I know he gon’ be a football player”
“He tall too, he’s gon’ be the next LT”.
He Mr. Man,
He’s got,
shoulders so broad,
Arms so strong,
Legs so long—
Run fast too.
Meant to catch touchdowns,
Meant to get first downs,
Stacking sacks, with speed from track,
A Black superstar, no lack of athleticism.
He Mr. Man.
*
Went from picking bales of cotton,
to picking balls in the slot,
your NFL draft stock, determines your field spot.
Uppers making calls for trades, for fields-to-fields—
See how many Black boys MLK St. yields.
Went from backs that
slashed,
to 40 yard dashes,
to running in between
10 yard hashes,
from 140 lashes,
to catching 150 passes.
Got him skipping classes to throw weights on his back—
the more he stack,
the more they rack,
all that body praise, but he’s still Black.
*
But why should we care anyway?
Mr. Man making 30 million dollars,
4 years
when he get hit so hard, it’s all ring in his
ears,
when he produce so much—
Jerry Jones can buy
700
of him,
and don’t get touched.
He Mr. Man
*
When back on the plantation he been a tight end,
from the raper sex farms,
to the Southern slave charm.
When they bodied
Black men,
Black skin,
150 years…
and still won’t give you your Quarterback,
when we’ve been halfback for past that.
Funny how we went from passing from hard Cowboys,
to lassoing passes from starred Cowboys.
So why patronize the corporation that offers
contact for contracts,
hit sticks,
and stiff hits?
*
I wonder,
If Mr. Man could be more
brains than
brute?
Using Black boy flesh for athletic sports suits.
I wonder, why are we raising our sons to be more buck than boy?
To be more crazed than praised for his
brains.
What if instead of a ball Mr. Man got a book?
How many more Black boys can literature hook?
Instead of body size being the holler,
What if Mr. Man had been called a scholar?
Instead of letterman jackets, what if we gave him lettering packets?
Instead of his arms, what if we talked about his
charm.
Instead of his shoulders, what if we talked about how football isn’t everything and gave him
folders.
Instead of his speed, what if we talked about his ability to
lead.
*
I’ll tell him,
Mr. Man—
they don’t get your speed if they don’t understand your needs,
there's no need for speed
because we are done with
running for White men.
No more playing in slots that were made for Black body torture,
No more catching passes in traffic, just for concussions to stack up.
No more sacks for cash, just for constant brain bash.
*
Instead of
“look at that big boy”
what if we see him and think,
“Aw shucky shucky na’—nephew’s a scholar”,
because you are so much more than
your body Black boy.
copyright micah hill 2025
