A Game Changer

My Father had three daughters to his name, Not one of us showed aptitude for sport; The egg and spoon race was my claim to fame And rounders’ balls were very rarely caught. * When Father’s sporting spirits were in play, Entrenched in Welsh traditions they’d be found; So rugby was the order of the day; The golden ball was oval, never round. Years later, football made its presence known As husband and then sons became enthused, And I would be left sitting on my own; Its fascination left me quite bemused. But over time I too became a fan As World Cup fever held me in its grip And soon to my amazement I began To understand the ‘dummy’, ‘curl’ and ‘chip’. When rousing national anthems fill the air Those patriotic spirits start to rise, I cheer the team, admire the players’ flair And shout as loud as any of the guys. So when the ‘Lionesses’ start to roar And bare their teeth against the USA, Whatever the resultant final score The game will be enthralling come what may! 30.06.19 PS - and it certainly was! Now entered into 'Poetry in motion' poetry contest Sponsored by: Matt Caliri * a British game similar to baseball, in which you try to hit a ball and you score a point if you run around all four sides of a large square area ( I was a pretty hopeless fielder!) 2019 Fifa Women's World Cup Poetry Contest: sponsored by Mark Toney Games - Mental Or Physical Poetry Contest -sponsor William Kekaula