I’m on the sideline once again
on a bench of boys and men,
waiting for a call
to come my way.
I look around me in the stands
at the rows of anxious fans,
waiting for the chance
to save the day.
I hear the crowd sing my name,
I bathe once more in their acclaim.
It’s everything in this game.
I know the board called abroad,
yet I try to catch the eye.
That special yard will it return?
I used to carry pace to burn.
On the training ground I feel the strain,
a reputation to maintain.
The physio will lay me out,
Am I OK? Am I a doubt?
I hear the crowd sing my name,
I bathe once more in their acclaim.
It’s everything in this game.
Everything in this game.
Copyright Keith Ames
