With a swerve and a shimmy
he escapes the clutches
of yet another hatchet man
hell-bent on breaking him in half.
A burst of blistering pace
sends him clear of a ragged rearguard;
defenders trailing in his wake;
bemused and befuddled by his brilliance.
And then the goals:
sublime chip over covering defender,
dazzling run and calm, slotted finish,
ball taken round Benfica keeper.
Twinkle in his eye never brighter,
impish grin never wider
than when he threw mud at the ref,
nodded the ball out of Banks’ hands.
Heads bowed at grounds
up and down the land.
Fans and players united to
pay tribute to a football genius.
Remembering the slim, slight figure,
not the gaunt, husk of a man
staring out from the tabloids,
life slowly ebbing away.
Picture the scene:
George in football heaven,
pitting his wits against the wily Moore;
two legends doing battle again.