Outside Right

There used to be a game called soccer

At the touchline kids could stand

A haze of heroes 'mid a floodlight glare

Made it the best sport in the land


Then moneymen and bookies took over

The spectacle got stained by money

For off-shore agents and asset-strippers

It became the land of milk and honey


Players lost touch with the public

Fans turned into mere units of profit

Sponsors had coughed big money after all

The mugs in the stand must cop it


What planet are some players on?

As a grave national crisis is unfurling

The Premiership's dearth of sympathy

Looks little short of toe-curling


Multi-millionaires in Porsche Cayennes

Quit the community for ostentation

They should drop their social distancing

And echo the needs of the nation


Clubs missed an open goal here

Their boards could have taken the lead

Tuned into the public mood with empathy

Dribbled past a culture of greed


A nest of bookies, spitters, divas and divers

Thats the image foisted on kids

Will the sport honour the spirit of past heroes

Or stick to the folly of mad transfer bids?


The pandemic has moved the goal-posts

Offering soccer the hope of a healthier role

Or it can mark ego and extravagance

Missed chances and worse, an own goal


At a unique time of social dislocation

The game has great good to wield

But only if it returns to its roots recalling

Soccer's about a ball and a football field


◄ The Chapel on the Hill

We Must Be Fair To Belinda ►


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