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Didier Drogba

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 The Portuguese barber – with vain hopes,
it turns out, for tonight against Spain –
puts down his scissors, stares at me
in the mirror. It’s emerged that we love
the same club. He describes in detail
a special one our hero scored – back to goal,
pulled the ball down, shrugged off the defender,
swivelled and shot. One glorious movement.
Can’t help it; the way he tells it brings tears
to my eyes. These continentals
even talk a better game than us. Lion
of Africa, who soared to meet the corner
when we seemed utterly out of it,
then scored the winner from the spot.
The only way to bow out.
Go on, Drogs. Go on. Yeeeeeeeess!

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Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/didier-drogba-2/