Thursday, October 25, 2007

The Olympic Stadium, Rome

Packie’s parry on the line,
Stumbling as he fell,
Schillachi star about to shine,
Sounding our death knell.

Carefully he picked his spot
With great deliberation,
An accurate, well-measured shot
That earned deification.

The cross that came in from the right
That reached McGrath’s strong head.
Just was not to be our night,
Our dreams were put to bed.

Franco Baresi on the ball,
Calm and self-assured,
Didn’t see Townsend at all
Till well and truly skewered.

The crowd that tarried in the ground
Although the match was finished,
The constant, marvellous wall of sound
That never once diminished.

The memory is fading now,
The details have gone hazy,
But wasn’t it fantastic how
The country all went crazy?

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