They Kick a ball round a pitch,
You don’t dare look away,
A goal you cannot miss,
It would make your day.
You shout at your team,
Although they cannot hear,
You block out reality,
Except to gulp your beer.
Reading the TV times,
You see there’s a match at 11oclock,
Noticing there’s just 10 minutes to go,
You freeze in your seat like rock.
As a kid, you dreamed to be a footballer,
Wearing them shorts and red shirt,
When you realised dreams don’t always work out,
Deep down it kind of hurt.
I say “I’d rather watch paint dry”
But you just let out a huge groan,
“What a shame” your team has lost…
“Oh well each to their own”