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night final series.
fogbound Waverley.
Richmond sneaking up on Carlton.
Christou's shorts sneaking up on him.
he marks as if he's taking time out to pray,
religiously bringing the ball to his chest.
this man Adonis/ this fervent Footy King
graceful with each stride but
the lack of protective underwear
& his unfortunate pants
let him down as they rise to meet him.
flesh off this Blue Boy peeks out,
like a baby poking its head out of a crib.
it greets the crowd, says Hello
then slaps side to side, thundering on each thigh
spanking against the wind.
it's like a heartbeat/ an anthem
a free round of drinks cheer.
the crowd uncontrollable
the rest of Carlton, inconsolable.
the chant: 'go Big Boy, go!'
is rocking the stadium.
he must have travelled
50 air vented metres by now.
his ball control is amazing
he lines up, looks for Kouta
tries to find him.
does. it's all over.
who cares about the goal
all we want to see is
the acknowledgement on Christou's face
& the way he will nonchalantly tuck it back in
without the umpire seeing. |