
It’s seven o’clock in the morning.
The birds chirp overhead.
Dad gives me a warning,
so I jump up out of bed.

I rush downstairs to feed.
2 Weetbix, milk and toast.
Which gives me lots of speed.
I’m the ‘first five’ with the most.

Next, I get my kit.
Boots, headgear and mouthguard.
Just in case I get hit,
or tackled really hard.

The whistle blows.
The ball is punted high up in the air.

I stand my ground.
But I get munted by a guy with curly hair.

My knee is stuffed
This game is rough, but I get up all the same.
The coach says.
‘You’ve gotta be tough if you wanna play this game.’

The second half is drawing closed.
There’s not much time to spare.
We score a ‘try’ right by the posts.
We smell victory in the air.

The score is level, we need to win.
The coach tosses me my tee.
I flick some grass to check the wind.
And try to ignore my knee.

I’m right in front, this should be easy.
A hush falls over the crowd,
I take the shot, but the wind is breezy.
They suddenly roar out loud!

The ball hits the post, and seems to hang.
Then over the bar it goes!
The flags go up, and so do we.
The final whistle blows!

Dad gives me a hug.
He says he’s proud of how I played.
We head off to the club.
For a jug, a coke, and hot chips freshly made.

It’s 7 0’clock in the evening.
Now it’s time to hit the hay.
No doubt I’ll soon be dreaming.
Of the game we won today.