Italy 1 Australia 0
Maserati was red-carded,
And Italian spirit fell.
Tactically quite guarded,
They were desperate as well.
The forays were Viduka’s,
And young Cahill played with sense,
And another chap named Lucas
Played a stormer in defence.
The ten men went defensive,
Closing midfield as a bunch.
The pressure was intensive
But the Aussies lacked real punch.
They just squandered all their chances
And you felt for them because
You felt that circumstances
Militated against Oz.
Harsh extra time was looming,
The ref’s whistle was in hand,
But a tackle big and booming
Meant things didn’t go as planned.
In Melbourne and in Sidney
And in Brisbane and in Perth,
‘Twas a punch right in the kidney
From the far side of the earth.
They’d been really going potty,
Scarce believing how they’d played,
Till a cool Francesco Totti
Left them gutted and dismayed.
Ukraine 0 Switzerland 0 (3-0 pens)
In dreadful games I’ve seen before,
I’ve watched as grown men weep.
But, janey, this was such a bore,
The whole crowd fell asleep.
From all around the stadium
There came the sound of snoring,
While others, head in hand, looked glum,
Dismissing it as boring.
The crowd performed a Mexican yawn
And then some slow hand-clapping,
And then, with faces long and drawn,
Resumed their fitful napping.
Video evidence will condemn
The total lack of tension,
Only Wicki’s ball of phlegm
Being worthy of a mention.
The penalties did not improve
The general air of boredom,
Serving sadly just to prove
The Swiss lads cannot score dem.
Thank God tomorrow afternoon
It’s time for the Brazilians,
Else the telly viewers soon
Will turn off in their millios.