Hot Potato

Been watching more soccer…

It’s too hot for any one man to keep to himself.
The potato zips wildly
From one man to another,
Off this one’s foot, off that one’s head;
Contrasting uniforms swirl madly
From one end of the field to the other,
Merging, parting, merging again
While the potato rockets amongst them
Like bumpers in a pinball machine
And the players ring each other's bells
YELLOW CARD!

A moment’s pause
And the bedlam resumes
As the tide turns
And the swirl of players
Drifts toward one end of the field,
The potato much too hot
For any one man to keep to himself
But every man hungers for it.
Contrasting uniforms mash awkwardly
As the potato gets lost
Momentarily
In the frenzied scramble
GOOOOOOOAAAAAAL!

Unless players keep their eyes peeled
For the hot potato
Their team WILL get burned…