Smells Like Team Spirit*

The life of a sporting widow
Doesn’t really leave much to show
For money and hours expended on match days
And the coming home pissed.
You know…?
You behave like a sh*t when you’re drunk:
A total loss of consonants
And the aura of a skunk.
Your mouth falls from its runners
Making rambling unpleasant remarks
As though this is the only state
In which you can leave a mark.
I’m glad you had things to celebrate,
That you had a good time at the game,
Though the fracture in basic relations
Leaves little behind but blame.
While you may say I spoil your fun
With my general lack of interest
Perhaps you might see things differently
When face to face
With your hung-over mess…

 

*Post-match analysis from a household near you…

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s