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Diving on concrete – not a great idea,
unless you’ve no concept of pain or fear.
I dived for the rebound, the ball in my eyes
but when I landed, to my surprise,
my arm was red and ripped and bloody,
all because my mates didn’t want to get muddy.
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It’s not my fault that I only see one thing,
the ball, and it’s flight and not the sting
of impact with the hard grey ground,
all I see is Ben’s rebound
that I simply have to save,
for I am nothing but a slave
to that glorious, sky-bound flight,
to the close-range stops, to the fight
that comes with every shot,
to the addictive need to save the lot.