From The Tantrums of An Idol..

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 I often look at Ron, and think to myself…
During those tantrums on the pitch
You know…when he’s stamping his feet like an angry elf
In a histrionic fit.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 After shouting at the telly I then calm down again
Recalling the days of real (sic) idols when
“The Team” consisted of I do believe eleven?
and no-one had the sole belief he carried the other ten.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 I think about our school playing fields (sic)
Consisting of pink cinders in a dour South London park
Where a teams character was formed, instilled
Or the thought of maybe next time…we’ll get to play on grass?

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Then Ron’s histrionics start again
As a pass drifts by astray
Or that final chance to win the game
Without extra time, passed him by, as indeed it did today.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 I watched him during the shoot-out
Stood alone hiding behind the unified sanctity of the team
Where yet again he played the crowd
With… well there’s ten of them, and then there’s…me.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 I kinda felt for the Portuguese man of awe
Stand on me I did, after watching this last night
Have his tantrums, and the me, me, me, closed the door.
Leaving him out there on his Tod, like the kid what no-one liked?*



Your man Ron spends so much time bouncing up and down in tantrum mode, I worry for his mental well being… and where’s the pride and indeed enjoyment of playing for ones country in that…I ask myself?

Stay well, be lucky and keep smiling.



* Tod Sloane. American jockey. Rhyming slang for…to be on one’s own.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/from-the-tantrums-of-an-idol/