(co-written with Marc de Graeve)
Standing in the midfield Glove in hand, sweating hot My feet ache, waiting Waiting for the ball
I hear a crack! A white ball slices Through the air, falling It’s up to me, I have to catch it
I run backwards and fall from anxiety I see the ball falling in front of my face. As if by instinct, I pull the glove above my face.
I hear a flop – It’s in my glove. He is out, The game is ours.