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Summer Ball

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 In summer, a fan keeps you warm
A match, lights your barbecue
The ground is where you plant vegetables
The spot, is on your face, it grew

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 The ball, requires a DJ
A net, to protect soft fruit
Summer Saturdays carefree and long
Scented by sun cream and the great smell of Brut

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 First day of the season, we’re buzzing
Treading water is over, football lifting our mood
We’re back at the game, back with our crowd
The pies are baked, the beer is brewed

Summer is an unwelcome break in reality. Pollen, flies, heat, rain, rumours, three months of blank Saturdays, fetes, festivals and fun. But the close season doesn’t exist in the true fans heart. Here in the City of Norwich, Ronaldos is an icecream cart in London Street, and a big headline this summer was that one of Ronaldos icecream carts had been nicked. When I relayed this fascinating nugget of info, a football obsessed 365-days-a-year (366 as necessary) fan sez “What does Ronaldo want with icecream carts anyway?”

I feared for my rum ‘n’ raisin, he sympathised with Cristiano. If it ain’t football, it’s not on our radar…

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/summer-ball/