Poem for Pancho Gonzales

    This was the world of white lines， a game

    unlike any other， where the object was to win，

    only you used words like "Please"

    if your aim ended up improperly

    in the next court， "Thank you" when

    the ball was returned and "Love"

    after you scored first.

    Yours was the name that survived

    the hatred only California can inspire，

    strong enough to be etched in fire

    on tennis rackets redeemed

    by thrifty mothers who built a life

    on S&H Green Stamps a dish，

    a dish， a lamp， an ashtray at a time.

    ——Leroy V. Quintana