I put the ball upon the spot,
And took a few steps back,
My football boots were scorching hot,
My record still on track.
The keeper stood upon his line,
His beard hung long and grey.
I caught the whiff of salty brine,
And albatross and ray.
And then I paused a while because
This loon was known to me.
The Ancient Mariner it was,
“Who stoppeth one of three.”