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The Over Forty Leaside League

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Each Friday night I find fatigue;
the Over Forty Leaside League,
with friends I’ve known for fifteen years,
expensive boots and bellies, beers.
Wise minds that know what they should do
guide legs too slow, like flies’ in glue,
still, sometimes they turn back the clock;
a shot, a cross, a save, a block,
but mostly we just get it right
with joke replies to each Evite,
and rallying when times get tough
with kids and jobs and marriage stuff.
My wife came out for drinks one night
but hasn’t since, and that’s alright.
She doesn’t get it (told me so),
and that is likely why I go;
to laugh and tell the same old tales
now speed is spent and fitness fails.
Familiarity’s intrigue:
The Over Forty Leaside League.

11

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-over-forty-leaside-league/