What did you do before they invented FIFA, Dad?

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 With just a stone, he stood all alone,
Then played out
the weekends big matches,
In his minds eye, from forty yards let fly,
from shoes full of scuffs and scratches.
A couple of sweet volleys hit discarded shopping trolleys,
then a diving header at the foot of the post,
but a mesmerising dribble, right through the middle
was the one that he loved the most.
Out in the yard, or roads badly tarred,
in darkness he made his own Wembley,
Until his Mothers shout and the threat of a clout,
Had him sprinting home for his tea.


Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/what-did-you-do-before-they-invented-fifa-dad/