I know how they feel, those Olympic athletes.
So much pressure, such high expectations.
Their public, their country, their parents,
their coaches... oh, the coaches...
They know them best of all, do those coaches.
They know their potential.
They've seen them perform.
They expect their best
every single time.
I don't care how you feel.
I don't care how you hurt.
Get out there and ski.
Get out there and skate.
Write for me, my pet.
They may be pilloried by the press.
But athletes don't have to worry about
a spanking from the coach if they don't
live up to expectations.
At least not as far as we know...
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3 comments:
That is the drive of a competitor- to win, to be first no matter what the body tells you. And yes, they do get the "spanking" from the coach. But you probably wear yours a little bit longer and redder than they do.
OG, there have been lots of fantasies written on that subject,
I'd like to think it happens, but I doubt it.
I doubt that any olympic coach could motivate his competitor, the way that your Sadist can motivate you.
Love and warm hugs,
Paul.
The poem isn't really about the athletes, and it's not really about competition. That part is the metaphor.
The sadist is my coach. He is judge and trainer and I am always expected - I am always required - to do my best and nothing less.
Because I have shown what that can be.
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