Smells Like Team Spirit*

I couldn’t run a race if my life depended on it.
I possibly might’ve walked but I never would’ve won it,
My sports education not even worth discussion:
Two female teachers (one built like a Russian…!)
Who stood together on the field
Showing us which bat to wield
And, in absence of excuse,
Pointing out which ball to use,
Urging us to practice ‘skills’
With no inherent sense of thrill
To motivate those yet untrained
Whose education had refrained
From even basic tutelage
In sportswomenship at a critical age
When maybe- yes, just maybe
A seed might’ve been planted
The seedling needing tender care
And nothing left for granted…
And so it was that life progressed
Until my first World Cup¹
-Watching football with his mates
While standing in the pub-
From which, acquired by degree
Appropriate vocabulary
Including words one should not use,
(Long-since taught there’s no excuse
For using language like that, dear,
So please don’t ever let me hear…)
But things have changed a lot since then
Not least that soccer’s not just for men
-And I’ve acquired a fair few phrases
That sometimes slip out in inappropriate places(!)
This fragile equality is still not stacking up for me
Even after almost a fifth of a century:
The single lesson I abhor
Is being the one who’s left indoors
-At least, that’s where he thinks I’d be
But now I’m thinking laterally…
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
God bless Man Sport
And long may it reign…


* With deference to Nirvana

¹ 1998… -always a winner at functions!!  -an interesting contemporary perspective



Leave a Reply

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

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

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ 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 )


Connecting to %s