The Footballer's Fear of the Whistle

After the whistle, after the game,

as soon as the crowd stops shouting your name:

it isn't the winning, it isn't the glory,

it's being there, at the heart of the story.

And you lose this thing at the worst of moments

as the light is dimming, come darker opponents;

the slowing of thought, the speeding clock,

or the fear that tick, won't follow tock.

For it's that which brings the darkest cloud,

though there's comfort in sons to make a man proud.

Not for you the tabloids' shame,

a kicked-over chair brings the end of the game.