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The Greats of the Game.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 I gave the round ball a solid kick,
after much debate, Pele had been the pick.
We had argued for most of the day,
before finally coming out to play.
Gordon Banks saved my shot,
my friend thought of him a lot.
he threw the ball to George Best nearby,
he dribbled Bobby Moore and let fly.
Aimed for the top right hand corner it found its mark,
we raised our hands in delight running around the park.
Then we heard a shrill whistle in our ears,
the policeman’s uniform adding to our fears.
Can I play too? He asked the four of us,
Do not worry, there is no need to fuss.
I wiil be Maradona, though I will not use my hand,
for the rules of football, I do understand.
Too scared to say no, we all agreed,
though we knew he would have too much speed.
He was big, whilst we were small,
and so we battled to get the soccer ball.
He scored many goals past Gordon Banks,
until finally, Maradona the policeman said thanks.
We looked at each other as he walked away,
happy that Maradina had been able to play.
Then we were joined by other greats of the game,
Charlton, Law, Matthews, not quite the same.
But they were our friends who loved to play,
football or soccer each and every day.
And so we played soccer in the park till dark,
the greats of the game having made their mark.

Notes

See more poems by Gwenael Espenel at www.freewebs.com/allpoetry

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-greats-of-the-game/