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Mud covered ball skids across a pitted field, grass
In short supply. Puddles on the flanks, a spongy
Morass in the goalmouths. Up for a high one, and
Heads clash; it gets ugly. Then, more rain falling
From leaden skies…lashed sideways by a brutal
Wind that bites into faces – players and fans alike.
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Lights flicker from the streets around, rain still falls.
An own goal, 1 – 0. A stray back pass, 2 – 0. Penalty
Conceded, 3 – 0. Game over, they say. Though not
Quite. A late, late rally – desperate measures in the
Filthy weather. One back, dodgy offside. Two back,
Volley on the turn. Hang on, the final whistle. Won.
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Crowd drifts away through wet dusk, steam rises
From the tea bar. Reds triumph, or was it Blues ?
No matter – the day was a good one, despite rain,
Despite chill. A walk home, results on the tranny
Radio; rivals lost, even better. And still it comes, a
Relentless deluge. But it don’t matter. Victory is all.