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I placed the ball before my feet,
And to myself I said:
“My Son, at last you have the chance
To put your team ahead.
That plastic-coated leathern sphere,
Just hit it hard and low.
And you can bet into the net
It rocket-like will go.”
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That spotkick I have duly took,
But we ain’t gone ahead.
No team-mates rush to kiss and hug,
I’m wishing I were dead.
The fans despair, tear out their hair,
And Gaffer wants my hide.
Though hard and low I strove to strike,
The ball flew high and wide…