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A harmless header gently curving,
Should not really be unnerving,
But we’re often undeserving
When our hopes are torn asunder.
Dipping? No, nor gently swerving,
We were stunned by Willo’s blunder.
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Perhaps the floodlight was refracted
Or his vision was impacted
By a movement small attracted,
As the Gods looked down in wonder?
Certainly he was distracted
To commit such dreadful blunder.
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As we sat with cold breath bated,
Time, it seemed, decelerated.
Gobsmacked, tall McGuinness waited
For the slightest chance to plunder.
Seismic murmurs were created
By the unexpected blunder.
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As the ball from safe grip tumbled,
In such high-charged tension fumbled,
Hopes of final vict’ry crumbled,
Gasped in shock, then vanished under.
How the old men cursed and grumbled
At the size of Willo’s blunder!
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As the ball danced in the netting,
As we reached the height of fretting,
Despite the cold, we broke out sweating,
As Bohs voices rose like thunder.
‘Twill be an age ‘ere we’re forgetting
Willo’s almost fatal blunder.