Bragging Rights

It only took four
of us that night
up in the field
behind the estate like
many a game before,
to rush through the long grass
dart between opponents
in the half-light and play,
play like our idols

in our minds at least
bleak reality would
beg to differ,
but in that moment,
we were like the greats

only four of us,
nine of them,
we braved the onslaught,
battled it out,
and made sure,
made damn sure
we would not concede.

The target man up front
awaiting my high lofted
distribution, so far
away up field,
the slight one just behind,
looking to turn all comers,
feet barely touching the ground,
ghostlike. And The wall,
back four of one,
trying to guard the entire
back half of the pitch.

Three warriors and  me,
small against the night,
in my goalmouth, looking
to swallow each challenge,
though shall not pass
I think as I fly,
I hit the ground but never truly come back
down.

It only took four of us,
that night, this night,
7-0 our trophy,
bragging rights on
the estate,
worth as much as any prize.

© non humphries