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Sitting in the changing room with smells amongst the air,
Of cigarettes and deep heat that makes my nostrils flare,
Sitting taking orders from everyone around,
Come on I think, it’s cold, let’s get on the ground.
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Waiting patiently I sit – will I make the team?
I trained so hard last night surely he’s not that mean?
Then the clip board comes out and silences the crowd,
Please say my name you know I’ll do you proud!
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The list of names flow quickly – I feel a wobble in my chin,
One name left I panic – am I in, am I in!
Disappointment fills my mind my chances here look bleak,
“Everyone’s important” says he , train harder next week.
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I stagger wearily to the side line of the pitch,
And pray to God that someone twists their ankle in a ditch,
As the final whistle blows I haven’t had my chance,
The team skips past truimphantly not giving me a glance.