From that first cherry plucked when Adam was small
To when suburban clan rivalries divided us all
Words mêlée and fight as our poets recite
The deeds and the lore of football
Though others assume this most sacred name
As rugby, and gridiron, even soccer may claim
Of feats gazed upon in sport’s pantheon
From the pack large emerges one game
The Irish brought hurling from their isle green and lush
To England for their invention of cricket we owe much
But once locals displayed their fleet-footed games
God allowed royal blood lines to touch
As convicts we worked bound by chains cold and cruel
Now we drink to our freedom, our cup ever full
A continent, a nation; no borders, no hesitation
Our game will have no off-side rule
We’ll engage on a generous wide open plain
Echoes of Australia’s ample, unfilled terrain
Though oblong yet pure, this shapes to ensure
In the end the ball bounces your way
Now heroes seek glory in mud thick or thin
Their memory of Anzac they dare not rescind
Lay team motif first, that unquenchable thirst
To move the ball swift as the wind
A man has no wings, cannot fly, ‘twas once said
But to know where that dictum is turned on its head
Where gravity’s defied mere men reach to the sky
Reclaiming paths angels once tread
Speed, skill, endurance, strength, camaraderie
Courage, that’s football, is what we’ve come to see
As in the beginning
As when the fat lady’s singing
So shall it always be
• • • •
Michael Viljoen, 2009

About Michael Viljoen
Michael was born in the Nelson Mandela Bay area, the same as Siya Kolisi, the successful World Cup winning Springbok captain, but was raised in Melbourne with a love for Australian Rules. He has worked as a linguist in Africa with Wycliffe Bible Translators Australia, where he wrote a booklet on the history of Cameroon's Indomitable Lions, which was translated into several Cameroonian languages.
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