A third-place playoff; what a bitter blow

for those convinced that it was coming home.

Can someone tell me, ‘cause I’ll never know

why deep defence beneath Atlanta’s dome

 

became their plan, with men like Messi there?

It just invited them to find a way

to dance around and through like Fred Astaire,

though even Ginger could have on the day.

 

That wizard with his magic left-foot wand

cut them apart in making both their goals.

They never made an effort to respond,

just offered up some more defensive holes.

 

Another fail for yet another team,

with 1966 a distant dream.