Saturday Football

There is only one rite in the live of a guy the plays amateur football In the solitude of a room, find the socks Roll the bandage, get one or two shorts Maybe somebody needs it The neoprene accessories, indispensable the shin pads, the keen support... Find the jersey, if it's clean better The football boots, or turf shoes... Ah if you are the keeper, things are a lot more complex This act, almost sacred it's called: prepared the bag And it can be done on Thursday, Friday or Saturday itself After been working all week After been father, husband, employee Boss or whatever you got in life Tired, exhausted, worried? Could be... But finally Saturday has arrived After the whole week looking for news in the Whatssap To see what the group posts Has arrived the day in which we are going to play football Yes Football Because those who play amateur football knows That to football play the chosen ones Did you pay your fees? When is the deadline? And your wife that helps you with some killing phrases And with this heat you are going to play? Look how it rains, sure is gets cancelled Don't forget to come back injured... And today the coach will field you at least a bit? To me that guy doesn't like you Hahaha, she doesn't know the quality of guy that the coach is She doesn't know that this guy pay but doesn't play He worries about us, fill up the team sheet and also dreams She doesn't know also about the delegate, that goes to all meetings She doesn't know all the anticipation before going to play football She doesn't no nothing of this But without her company, we have to recognise it Our thing couldn't be that possible and nice Bye Dad, have fun. Greetings to the guys Don't kill yourself please Some of our kids tells us And we leave to the field, to the stadium, to the club; alone or with company By car, by bike, by taxi, by remise by bus Because to the place for the game you get there however you can And there you meet yours, and the others They all come with their bags, and with their dreams Of the genius play you are going to do The in-extremis save of your portal Of that instant in which the game is going to pass through you Come on eh! Aguante! Come on come one come on! And to the field Another magic instant, unmatched, impossible to describe Only missing the world cup song and the commentators relating our game And always you get one of the three results you see? But in end if we win better; but if not, nothing happens We all going to recover in the third half You know the great players that are there where you play? You know that we pay to play? You know that we pray not to get to the limit of yellow cards? You know how much we enjoy the post-game with the boys??? The arrival of the evening Or the crumps, or the knee or back pain, or the scratch Tells us that it's time to come back home And that return trip also have a special flavour Because we have completed a new edition of going to play football We don't know if the week ends or starts there Ah How did it go??? Good, always we have to answer good! It's a beautiful part of the life of someone that dreams to play Of someone that pays for playing, that dies for playing