Post Match

February 2, 2008

Yet another version. Those of you who know how I use this site, will hopefully humour me!

Post Match

After the roar and the grunt
of the thundering masses – the bellow
and boom, the hysterical whoop
the silence is stark in the stalls –

on the pitch –
in locker room showers
where the cleaner is finished –
but surprised by the shirts.

The players look small on the field
but you’d think they’d be larger up close.

Not tiny and flattened like pieces of litter
she thought they were flyers
but then she saw collars
and paper ripped hems.

The woman thought players were
towering Goliaths –
hulking great giants, leviathan fired
and muscled with rope.

She never thought they were all
Tiny Tom Thumb-kneed –
tops made from boxes
of emptied out fags.

She held one up between two palms
and touched its little cardboard arms –
who’d have thought it … just a slip
and all that fuss?

She hooked her post match boys
in pockets, slipped them in her jeans
and jacket, took them home
and watched them flourish.

The Football World’s first woman gov’nor
let them out to play for Cups.

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