The Game

He heard them loud and clear,
Even from this far.
The one thing that was static,
Was their chants they never died.

As the bus pulled up,
To where these guys should be,
He took a moment to look around,
Felt pride swell within.

Some he didn't know,
Others he knew quite well,
All were here for love,
The love of the game.

To some its just a sport,
To others life or death,
To him its just pure love,
He plays for the fans.

The pitch is like a monster
Alive and full of grunt,
It can be you perfect soul mate,
Or tear you right apart.

Hes nothing but a boy,
To the fans he so much more,
A hero and an idol,
The one that they adore.

Its always overwhelming,
When his nation sends the call,
Sometimes its just too much,
When he puts that jersey on.

He doesn't play for glory,
Nor the riches nor the fame,
He plays because he loves it,
The fans and the game.

*I wrote this while i was on a bus to a game*