Thursday, November 8, 2007

Ireland 0 France 1

The people gasped when Robbie Keane
Emerged from Lansdowne Road.
What a bad night it had been,
And in his face it showed.
The disappointment in his eyes,
The frown upon his face,
Just made spectators realise
That smiles were out of place.
But that was not the reason why
The people stopped and stared,
For Robbie looked a bit awry,
Red-faced and tousle-haired.
The pain! The pain was quite acute,
And if that weren’t enough,
All across his mohair suit
Were tiny bits of fluff.
It looked as though he’d fallen in
A vacuum cleaner bag
Or else a massive rubbish bin
(Said one observant wag)
Sticky sweets were interspersed
Among the balls of fluff,
With yellow tissues all immersed
In gunky, yellow stuff.
For several seconds no-one spoke,
No words were said aloud.
Then finally, a small voice broke
The silence of the crowd.
“What happened Robbie?” said the man
With journalistic clearance.
“Why do you display such an
Incredible appearance?”
Robbie gave a sheepish grin
And answered loud and strong –
“Lilian Thuram had me in
His pocket all night long.”
Ireland 0 France 1

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