Saturday Sunshine

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 😉  **