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As I seize upon a loose ball, he’d notice
that possession accrued by chance and not endeavour.
I’m the creative playmaker behind the strikers:
tackling is for the lesser gifted
water-carriers and workers.
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Stifling the echoes of yesterday’s quarrels
I play a quick one-two with an accomplice.
I’m equally accomplished with either foot,
the upshot of solitary childhood pursuits
that ruined the lawn in our back garden.
Through the defence I slalom
with feints and drops of the shoulder;
I’m nearing the penalty area
with only the last man to beat.