giving thanks in poetry

If jocks thank God when they win,
they should blame Satan when they lose.
“That interception I threw, I blame The Devil.”
“The opposing point guard sold his soul to the King of Lies to win tonight.”
That’d be awesome.
Or at least blame their own inability to curry favour with God.
“I must not have sacrificed enough goats to The Lord to get that strikeout.”
“Our goalie just didn’t pray hard enough, it turns out.”
Anything like that, really.
Any opposite reverse or inverse application of the same principle.
Where a spooky invisible all-seeing all-knowing ghost in the clouds
would somehow give a damn as to which
group of heavily-concussed millionaires
won at a children’s game.
I mean, Jesus.