My Soccer Team Poem by Gert Strydom

I see men standing next to each other
in a line
and they wear yellow and green.

The national anthem plays
and its like nobody honours it
or know the words,
but maybe they are caught by the great moment.

The whistle blows
and the ball is kicked to and fro
and there are men attacking
and others that defend.

The goal is open
and the ball flies past in a wide arc
and it’s as if my team
can’t score any goal.

The opponents have the ball
and shoot it right over the field
and one of their front players
hits it with his head.

The ball flies twisting
and with a swing in the air
and is accurately aimed at the goal

As from the ground
the goalie rises
and the onlookers are silent
and just before it’s too late,
the ball is caught
and the crowd cheers.

It is as if something sweeps into
the men with yellow and green
and they play perfectly,
like only a good team can.

There’s passion to win
and the ball is passed
from player to player
and a mighty kick,
launches it accurately past the goalkeeper
to get entangled in the net.

The crowd cheers and go nuts
and vuvezelas are blowing
and flags are swept to and thro
and the players grab each other.