Samba soccer by the Liffey
¶ 1
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The tall young lad, in eye catching top
Stepped onto the busy train, on a dull grey day
Bright yellow tracksuit, emblazoned ‘Brasil’
But his height and looks, made him stand out anyway
¶ 2
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Having just hit the net
The web alas, not the old onion bag
My mind went a-wandering
As the homeward journey began to drag
¶ 3
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Could he be the clubless Rivaldo?
Ready to turn out for Rovers, Bohs or Pats?
Or even Dublin City or UCD; an unwilling pawn
In one of the Eircom League’s endless spats?
¶ 4
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Well, whoever he was
He stepped out at Clonsilla
So by process of elimination
That ruled out Ashtownvilla
¶ 5
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Looking ahead, to the night’s exertions
And the contest with my fellow cohorts
I’ll soon be chasing samba shadows
When facing one of Sao Paulo’s finest exports
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