Went to bed last Friday night
Torres syndrome was induced
So sick of footballs current plight
Greed and money rule the roost
On a chilly Saturday afternoon
First pre season game was here
The kind that couldn’t come too soon
The Ram-blers, our neighbours dear
My three year old just wants a game
His silky touch, his slide rule pass
“Let’s play football” he proclaimed
With his old man and a yard of grass
On the plastic pitch, no fancy stadia
The trialists pray they’re not withdrawn
From Hungary out to far Canadia
This is grassroots, no sandwiched prawn
That song I couldn’t quite excrete
I sang the “Fer-nan-do Torres” line
A little voice from the back seat
Retorts with “Liverpools number nine”
I was so sick of football after Torres handed in his transfer request last Friday night but Saturday brought me right back to what its all about, the local derby, Cork City v Cobh Ramblers.
Both teams have been through the mill over the last number of seasons but still they survive run by the fans for the fans.
The game had players from all over the world trying their damnedest to earn a contract for the coming season and my lad with no interest in any of it.
He just wanted to play ball.(and sing songs)