Johan Cruyff (Revisited ~ In Memorium)

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 The blades of grass tickled the soil
As lightly as a child’s hand tapped wood
Or drips of rain into a metal bucket;
He gave the game colour, petals and
Pollen for the fan to feed off,
He took the watcher away from
Mud and stud, plumes of cigarette smoke
That discoloured the sky.
His moves planned, five passes ahead
Or even more. Knowing the diagonals
Of the pitch. Step overs would advance
Things further, deeper towards the king
Every blade of turf, composed. He gently
Tread the pitch as if it was thin ice
When he touched the ball it sounded
Like two eggs that tapped around in a bowl
His feet moved as two fish disturbed on
A rivers edge, and you know you’ve seen
Them, but then they’re gone.
And the blades of grass gave a symphony of
Sieved water.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/johan-cruyff-revisited-in-memorium/