In a field of green
Smell of grass stains and sweat
Under Saturday sunshine
Legs pound forward
Keen eyes see the run
And the wide open space before him
Like a new land to be conquered
The cross comes in
With a soft touch of boot to ball
He has control
Speed is of the essence
No
He IS the essence of speed
Dodging one opponent
Shrugging off another
The defender closes in on him
A fake to the left
Another
Nutmeg
And he goes right
The keeper is ready
Spikes bouncing eager in the muddy grass
He’s going near post, the keeper thinks
He knows it
But he doesn’t
Power flows through sinewy legs
Taking his shot on the run
The sound of ball on netting is drowned
In the volcanic cry of the faithful
As their hero wheels toward the corner
An unstoppable smile on his face
And thousands of scarves are lifted high
To kiss the Saturday sunshine
**I already miss the Barclay’s Premier League season. Can’t you tell, lol? At least there’s the Euro 2012 to watch for a while 😉 **