Around the time Cup Finals

were first shown on television

and the towers were erected   

overlooking our back garden  

with the lawn striped and manicured

just like Wembley Stadium;  

the Chief Scout would be watching

from the 6^th or 7^th storey

as I tried to keep the ball within

the central midfield area

away from the flower beds

my father set such store by.

 

Any lapse of control

saw a crowd of heads go drooping

or the prize snatched away  

by dogs and small children

who wouldn’t leave the pitch

despite appeals to reason.

They were no more than animals

at the end of the day.

 

To evade father’s discipline

and keep the advantage

of playing on home turf

I maintained close possession

far enough from the edges

and managed without wingers

only looking up when Mom blew

for dinner at the Chief Scout

unsmiling and furiously

scribbling notes.