Step onto the field,
Feel the chill at your feet,
Smell the grass, bitter, sweet.
Hear screams from the crowd that never yield,
As kickoff is ready to begin,
Chills race from your toes to chin.

The game has commenced,
You realize who you’re up against,
Your rivals,
The beautiful game has just begun,
And before you know it, nil to one.
The game is being lost in fifteenth minute,
But the game isn’t lost, you’re in it to win it.

Time goes by,
Shots after shots,
Posts after posts,
A Thought racing around your mind,
“How worse can it get.”
But that one perfect ball,
Perfect enough to put in the back of the net,

Landing straight on your feet,
You strike ball with power and heat,
Life slowed down,
Which felt like an hour,
Your head goes up,
You hear loud screams,
This moment is the time of your dreams.

The game is saved,
Confidence is boosted a mile high,
Done is everything the crowd craved.
Chants are let out with great, big cries.

The ball is at your feet once again,
The ball is sent with an amazing arch,
You send the ball into the bunch of men,
A chance is created in the 90th minute,
Once again, you’re in it to win it.
Your teammate appears with a massive jump,
The ball meets his head with a nerve wrecking bump.
He sends the ball roaring into goal,
Screams are let out with heart and soul.
The game has been won,
Everybody chants your name,
You become recognized,
This is the beautiful game.