The Olympic Stadium, Rome
¶ 1
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Packie’s parry on the line,
Stumbling as he fell,
Schillachi star about to shine,
Sounding our death knell.
¶ 2
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Carefully he picked his spot
With great deliberation,
An accurate, well-measured shot
That earned deification.
¶ 3
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The cross that came in from the right
That reached McGrath’s strong head.
Just was not to be our night,
Our dreams were put to bed.
¶ 4
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Franco Baresi on the ball,
Calm and self-assured,
Didn’t see Townsend at all
Till well and truly skewered.
¶ 5
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The crowd that tarried in the ground
Although the match was finished,
The constant, marvellous wall of sound
That never once diminished.
¶ 6
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The memory is fading now,
The details have gone hazy,
But wasn’t it fantastic how
The country all went crazy?
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