Too rarely does it happen that
Such a massive demi-God
Appears upon the Lansdowne sod.
For giant figures show disdain
For sampling our notorious rain,
Preferring, in these jet-set times,
To ply their trade in sunny climes.
And so, when Ireland played Brazil,
It gave me an enormous thrill
To watch this icon show his fresh
And eager talents in the flesh.
The very fact that he turned up –
This hero of the last World Cup –
Transformed a great night into one
That could not be improved upon.
And last night, he was at this best
And left the Irish crowd impressed,
As, from the very outset, he
Controlled things with authority,
And covered every blade of grass,
And never gave a wayward pass,
Displaying, once again, his sheer
Brilliance as in South Korea.
He did not tire towards the end,
As other, younger figures tend,
But kept up the relentless pace,
Retaining at all times such grace.
His reading of the game was such
That no-one caught the eye as much.
Not afraid to grasp the thistle,
Though always playing to the whistle.
Yes, Anders Frisk must surely be,
As my friend Pat remarked to me,
The greatest ref this world has seen, a
Hairier Pierre Collina.
And Irish fans still dwell upon
Those pennos given in Suwon –
A weak ref would not take the risk.
Undaunted though was Anders Frisk.