A Viking Funeral (Ode to Blair Walsh)


Blair Walsh is presently the kicker for the Minnesota Vikings football team.  He recently missed a 27-yard field goal at the end of a playoff game.  The Vikings lost to the Seattle Seahawks 10-9.  Walsh had previously kicked field goals for every one of the Vikings nine points.

A light is lit

A smile revealed

The hope for a future still waiting concealed

Prayers and tears

Triumphs and defeats

Through them all kept going, kept moving my feets

As a part of a team

I have a job to do

And the others have jobs that they have to do too

Win or lose

Pain and gain

We bleed

We lead

Time and time again

And again and again

Glory and fame

Fighting the battles, securing our names

The work has been done

The journey well tread

The moment has come, the time it is set

Chance and luck

Fortune and fate

Best laid plans and intentions…

You step right up and do what you can

Your job, your best

But no matter the plan…

The hopes of a town

The goals of a team

Hearts broken, eyes watered

The death of a dream

In that dark time

The nothing comes out

To devour the hope, leaving hurt throughout

I could have done more

I should have played less

Fought harder, faithed stronger

Lived better, worked longer

Then things would be perfect

The dream would be true

Life would be fair

For both me and you

Cause things, they ain’t perfect

But dreams do still come true

Sometimes they just look funny

Like a cat wearing shoes

So never forget the work you have done

The person you are

An important someone

Deserving of love

Of peace


You are that human

Who has lived through it all

Worked hard, had fun

Seen hardships, stood tall

Some things go right

Some things go wrong

But in every game

Always walk strong

Do the absolute best job you know you can do

And live the life you want you to do too

Succeed or fail

Light or dark

The nothing can’t kill

A smile in the heart


I also encourage your to read this from Theodore Roosevelt on the difference between those who do…

The Man in the Arena

 It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.