Pace Pumas play grass roots football.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Saturday forecast rain all day,
under eight six-a-side to play,
venue nearly ten miles away.
Gazebo is pitched six feet square,
eight lads, parents, kit under there?
you’ve only got the clothes you wear.
The rain keeps pouring through the day,
but the lads all seem keen to play,
win first four matches along the way.
Quarter and semi final win,
their first cup final to be in,
to lose it now would be a sin.
The final team has beat us twice,
in the league, now will it be thrice?
hope it’s the turning of the dice..
They net first no heads to the floor,
the equaliser we soon score,
and are looking for just one more.
Extra time a minute to go,
the rain lashed game played to and fro,
to lose it now would be a blow.
We get a free kick, gives us hope.
A shot on goal, ball is like soap,
and is dropped by goalies grope.
The ball is duly then tapped in,
and the lads go on to win.
Happy, though soaked to the skin.
Seven games played, constant showers,
tournament lasts over five hours,
premier lads in ivory towers.
Youth of today is not all bad,
if you give some time to your lad,
they will respond and you’ll be glad.
So dads please get off your asses,
find out where the nearest grass is,
and help your son with his passes.



I was in the kitchen when I got home, standing in a pool of water, which was still running down my back and legs. Why had an old man of sixty nine been standing in the pouring rain for all those hours? I had a shower and went into the lounge to see eight smiling faces looking up at me from a potograph.

Question answered.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/pace-pumas-play-grass-roots-football/