Red sun glints off his father's watch
He is standing there with white tube socks and Nikes
That he bought new
Arms held upwards and both knees bent
Hands are cradling leather meant for the net
He leans forward slightly
Tuesdays and Fridays Charlie goes to the park
Drives straight from work and leaves when it gets dark
He is forty-five and he knows that he could be a star
He is working on getting his free throw up to par
Children sit on the playground swings
Staring and laughing as Charlie sings to himself
That song she loved
His mind is focused, he does not hear
Their ridicule falls on deaf ears as he shoots
And thinks of her
Tuesdays and Fridays Charlie goes to the park
Drives straight from work and leaves when it gets dark
He is forty-five and he knows that he could be a star
He is working on getting his free throw up to par
Oh, and Charlie knows how it goes
He lost his chance at the ninth grade dance
With Sarah Green, he acted so mean
But now he'll win her back when he shoots that three
Tuesdays and Fridays Charlie goes to the park
Drives straight from work and leaves when it gets dark
He has nothing left but dreams of basketball stars
And the memories of high school and Sarah's strong pale arms