Urinalball
The urinal sat upon a pedestal
But Lineker looked rather
unconcerned,
Celestial,
As a tennis-ball pounced
Then bounced
Into the bowl and spiralled to
rest.
Lawrenson yawned at the
concession
Of the three points
And Lineker grinned at the decision
To use me as a
substitute,
A poet of such ill repute:
I detected derision
In Lawrenson’s grinding tone
And Lineker’s sardonic groan
But I fastened onto the ball
with eagerness
And precision,
Veered left and steered a low
drive
Into the very corner of the
urinal’s curved base,
The offensive skirting board,
Earning applause
For my one point hoard…
My arms were raised like Andy
Gray’s
In his prolific Aston Villa
days
And the yawning man,
Looked on amazed
And the grinning man,
With features lame
Stared at this non-league
blogger,
Who had changed the course of
their Urinal game…
Pete Ray
I awoke at 03 50 hours, one
Wednesday in 2012, fresh from the above dream. I guess that the Olympic
coverage on the BBC channels and my previous evening’s entertainment at
Coalville Town, where Bedworth United had drawn 3-3, had triggered the images.
The dream’s stadium appeared
to be a kind of white tiled shower-room, the goals were urinals at each end,
which stood on pedestals, with curved skirting boards jutting a short way from
the sides. It seemed that when a tennis-ball was kicked into the urinal, three
points were scored but a low strike on the skirting boards offered one point.
Gary Lineker and Mark Lawrenson gave the impressions that they cared little! I
awaited my call to enter the fray and scored my point with a low, left-footed
strike to the right of the offensive urinal. My arms were thrown into the air;
against my headboard, actually and of course, I awoke. I stumbled downstairs to
sketch what I had been dreaming about. Maybe this three-a-side game will find
its way into the Rio Olympics?
At least Team GB would be
unlikely to go out on penalties…
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