A Soccer Poem by Daniel Jungwirth

Three...two...one...Wildcats!

You go back to sit on the bench.

How many minutes would you be in this game?

Two?  Three?

Four if you’re lucky.

The ref blows the whistle.

And you practically fall asleep the whole time.

LOSER!  WIMP!

You would like soccer, if not for your teammates

Or lack of skill.

When you wake up, you have a game in the morning

UGH.

You’re only in for three minutes.

After the game, you practice shooting

And get it in one time.

For you, that’s good.

At practice, you get picked last for partners,

‘Cause last one to pick gets loser

That night you cry yourself to sleep.

You’re not on the A team for skill.  It’s because the A team

Didn’t have enough players at tryouts.

After one week without soccer, you have a game on Tuesday.

Your team loses.

And you’re only in for two minutes

Why?

You have one friend on the team.

Well, semi friend.

You ask him to hang out.

He says he’s got other plans.

Last game of the season, coach says.  

The Game Of Our Lives!

It’s just a U-11 soccer meet, there are hundreds of them just here in Minnesota

You think,

This time coach puts you in right away.

You get so pumped,

And he takes you out after a minute

It’s the second half.

You’re losing, 1-0

A kid on your team scores a goal,

Putting the game at a tie.

Just one more point.

It’s almost the end.  Seven minutes left.  Six.  Five.

And then,

For real,

Coach puts you back in.

Three minutes left.

You get possession for like five seconds, and lose it.

Two minutes left.

You actually have the ball.  You run up,

One minute left

Dribble past a few players as your teammates

For real,

Cheer you on.

The ball flies off your foot…

Zero minutes left.

Goes past the goalie,

And lands right in the corner of the goal.