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Admin
Boca Juniors '91
Pete
Sacramento, California
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Boca News: Cute Poem |
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Sunday, May 7
Cute Poem
By "The Mouse"
Twas the night before State Cup and all through the Forum
The posters continued their lack of decorum
The bags packed and ready in County Marin
With hopes that their team will come home with a win
The dads, with great tension, in thinking of Boca
Theyll surely not need their lowfat venti mocha!
The Boca girls snuggled all safe in their beds
While visions of corner kicks danced in their heads
The girls of both teams, love being so near it
One will get the title from three-peater Spirit
But elsewhere round NorCal scenes werent quite so pretty
Not as is in Marin or, too River City
In Walnut Creek, Stockton, Elk Grove, Mountain View
In Burlingame, Turlock: despair through and through
The Sans of Lorenzo, Francisco, Ramon
Santas Clara and Rosa: no sun for them shone
Pacifica, Livermore, Galt, Central Valley
Orinda and Lodi - so many to tally
In all of these towns, in all of these places
Were houses within which were no smiling faces
For inside of the homes (those with shin guards and cleats),
Someone huddled in bed, hiding under the sheets
A person forlorn, in despondent condition
Curled up like a lump, in a fetal position
Its tears softly flowing, an aura of sorrow:
Their team will not play in the State Cup tomorrow
The convergence of sniffles and the flurry of sobs
Sent signals up high to alert the soccer gods
Who met and decided to send from the heavens
The Fairies of Soccer to soothe teams of elevens
They set off to earth, swooping down, gliding up
With power and grace, like the CyberRays lineup
More rapid than strikers, the fairies they came
As they whistled and signaled and called out by name:
Now Northstars, now Heat now Rumble and Blue,
On Tremors, United and Breakaways, too.
Oh Thunder, Tornados, Strikers, and Storm,
All Rage and the Blaze, well get you back in form!
Each fairy seemed kindly, but dressed quite so odd
With a net for a gown and with cleats she was shod
A crown made of crossbar, and knee socks so quirky
Resembling (if he were in drag), John Murphy
Each flew to the room of a poor little dear
And tried to make sadness and gloom disappear
(she said):
You feel that youve missed chance for glory and fame
But dont forget, sweetheart: its only a game
You gave it your best, you tried your darned hardest
Youre wonderful, darling, of you we are proudest
The creature stopped crying, dabbed gently its eyes
And arose from the bed, to the fairys surprise
For under those covers, the person so sad
Was not a young girl, but an old soccer dad
The man poured out his story, with passion and pain
As he relived the matches, again and again
The field was too bumpy, the wind wrong direction
The refs were against us our game was perfection!
The air was too humid. The sun was too bright.
The goal box should have been three feet to the right
The coach should have sent someone to mark the sweeper
The coach should NOT have substituted the keeper
If only wed been in an easier bracket
The mans voice was raised; he made quite a racket
Our forward was NOT past the second defender
If offsides werent called, we would be a contender!
The fairy, so sternly, viewed him with regard
And said stop complaining, or youll get a red card!
This games for the kids, its not you its about
So to rid him of darkness, she sprayed him with Zout
If its too much to handle, too high a degree
I strongly suggest you consider Class III
Heres something to cheer you to him she enticed
With Gatorade, bagels and oranges sliced
And then from her bag, she pulled deep from within
A plate stacked with brownies (no, not from Marin)
The man continued his ranting, details in excess
The fairy said softly this guy is hopeless
As she left, she exclaimed with annoyance so rife:
Happy State Cup to all
And dad: get a life
And a respnse from Dad:
What a mean little mouse to portray Dads so unfairly,
Were worse than the Mothers- but really just barely
You may sit in your lounge chairs not standing to yell,
But you love the game too babe, its easy to tell
You have soccer blankets, and a key chain she made,
To let her play soccer four tuitions youve paid!
You buy Total 90s, sports bras, and sports drinks,
And set your umbrella just so- not to jinx
You hold them, and love them, and French braid their hair,
And ask why the coach subbed them off- so unfair!
You put on team dinners, and book the hotel,
You have the first aid kit when joints start to swell
When games get exciting (and usually they will),
You keep checked emotions, you wont let it spill
You dont yell at refs or say anything bad,
About coaches, or players, or even a dad!
But when State Cup is over, and DD is in bed,
The next non-soccer weekend is something you dread
Now you really cant wait for Spring League to begin,
And you really are jealous of Boca and Marin
While you just missed the semis; Told the girls its for fun
Youre chaffed that somebody has ended your run!
For a few years from now, it will actually end
And that year to college your DD youll send
So call out to Dads and say they are too much,
And act like to Mothers it just isnt such,
But years down the road, when your club decals faded,
Youll drive by a sports field, and find you're elated
This game they grew up with- a treasure so rare,
That taught dedication, devotion, despair
It was part of your life too, I think that you know it,
But under umbrellas you just didnt show it!
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