2005
The confidence oozed from every pore
as he raced with ball at his feet,
unfazed by the Ninian home supporters’ roar,
only the goalkeeper and me to beat.
‘I know you think you’re a tough old bird,
come on, old man, have a try.’
‘You watch it, big mouth, for it’s really absurd
if you think I’m going to let you stroll by.’
‘Oh yeah,’ he said, ‘you think you’re good, son,
coz we won the World Cup back in, um, a few years ago, mate.
What you got to show, what Wales ever done?’
(Quarterfinals, Sweden. In 1958)
‘Oh? Didn’t know that. Anyway, birdbrain, the ball is right here,
what’s stopping you, too frightened to try?’
‘No, just getting myself into top gear.
When you regain consciousness, ask yourself why.’
I hacked both his legs, crunched his right knee,
crying, he fell to the pitch.
The whistle went. ‘Hey’ said the referee,
‘you know you can’t tackle like that, Rich.
First, he’d already got rid of the ball,
second, you hit him far too high and too hard.’
I said ‘I like to see some big mouth fall.’
‘Me, too,’ said the ref, ‘yellow card.
You know, Rich, it’s quite a shame
that you’re so vicious in any tackle.
You spoil what is a gentleman’s game,
plus your stupid and infantile cackle.'
You seem to take pleasure in landing a blow,
a thing most of us find rather unpleasant.’
I said ‘the only gentleman’s game that I know
is partridge, grouse, hare, pigeon and pheasant.’
‘Don’t try to be funny with me,’ said the ref,
pointing his whistle and finger at me.
‘one more tackle like that, you’re off with the chef,
it’s bluebird no longer, just poulet garni.’
After the shower, the captain came by.
‘You’re uncompromising when you give them a blow,
but (off the record) I liked it when you raked his thigh.’
‘But then, I am a professional fowl, you know.’
