English summers are all about cricket
The sound of willow on leather
Players in crisp white flannel uniforms
Overweight umpires giving the ‘out’ signal
Frequent delays for rain or bad light
Always a break for afternoon tea
Deck chaired spectators dozing on the lawn
Woken by cheers from the occasional boundary six hit
But everything changes in late August
Football (AKA soccer) season kicks off with bang
This is not a sport for dozing seated elderly gentlemen
Its in your face screaming tribal warfare
Rival fans pack the stadiums taunting each other
A heavy police presence prevents violent clashes
The teams take the the pitch and battle commences
Its a game of passing and constantly moving
A mixture of strategy and elegant movement
Patterns created by the constantly changing formations
Its speed chess on steroids mixed with heavy metal music
The ball bounces all over the field seeking a goal
Suddenly an opening appears and brilliant pass is made
The striker runs on taking the ball goalward
The goalkeeper spreads large in a desperate last defensive move
The striker delicately chips the ball over the goalkeeper
It rolls into the net as the crowd goes wild
Loud chanting erupts as the winning fans celebrate
The losing side battles hard to equalize
Intense physical tackles with frequent trips are penalized
Players go down like 9 pins writhing in agony
Only to jump up seconds after the referee awards a yellow caution. to the offender
Fans are whipped up into a frenzy as the gladiators fight it out
It all ends after 90 minutes of play and a victory is declared
Mud splattered players walk off to shower and gloat
Winning fans go home singing about victory
Losing fans go home in silence plotting revenge
The cycle continues twice a week for 10 months
Until you once again hear willow on leather in summer
Cheeky Monkey Poetry 