National Defeat

On yer eadEleven young men wore the shirt
Three Lions and a collective heart
To kick a ball across the grass
In a stadium full of hope

For ninety minutes the ebb and flow
Was televised to millions of souls
A spectacle. A national event. Live
With partisan hopes riding the waves

And at the end. When the man in black
Signalled for play to stop
The impatient millions who invested hope
At least those that followed the white-shirted types

Were left with little more
Than a limp balloon to fill-out
The swelling where pride should grow
Acknowledging that when it mattered

Chile turned up the heat
Which in football parlance
Is all that counts
Don’t cry son. It’s in yer ‘ead

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