As I stand on that muddy grass field,
The roar of the cheering crowds
Is all I seem to hear.
No specific voices; it's all just a blur.
The only person I really notice
Is the yelling of my coach.
As I go to challenge the ball,
I think, "I want my coach to be proud of me."
The ball is at me feet, I have to be quick.
I dribble up the side of the field,
Cut in and cross, one touch,
From another player, and goal!
I know my coach is proud of me
From just one look.
Walking to the car,
Ball in hand, covered all in mud,
I receive compliments on a great game.
I say thanks, but all that matters
After the game winning goal
Is that one look from my coach.
Poem About Soccer
This poem is quite amazing, and I am sure that a lot of people would be touched like the way I have. I have a friend who enjoys this poem because she plays football. It is very substantial to...
One Look
Published by Family Friend Poems December 2008 with permission of the Author.
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