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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.

Peace.

Kev.

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

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