Maynor Figueroa – Stoke City v Wigan Athletic
¶ 1
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As blazing orange strides the park,
With fear that nature brings here,
And the thunder beats from the four walls.
A melee of molten mouths.
¶ 2
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Beyond expected, the norm resumes,
As the swagger of the opposition takes no head,
As heads turn and face.
¶ 3
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With progression to success shared,
A minor misdemeanour in a non-malicious zone,
As the German traps the slippers Sinclair.
The fall sparks a passionless turn,
To the dark condemner.
¶ 4
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The sphere sits steady,
As ease is on the cards.
It lies on the track,
As the train ploughs through its spine,
With no sound of encroachment.
¶ 5
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Roars lumped in open throats
As few identify the intensity,
Until it pilots to its resting point,
Beyond the gasping desperation,
Of the Dane’s digits.
¶ 6
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As the glowing face outshines the green garments
Nobody will ever underestimate
The vigour of Figueroa.
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