Oh yes! Your importance on the field we cannot dispute
Yet, indispensable when you brag; we thirst to refute
Since very little is your contribution to our victories
Drenched in greed and selfishness
You amass all the eighteen area to yourself;
The remaining in bits to the feverish emaciated supplicants.
Only in the post you stand immobile
And spurt thunderous decrees
To Staggering Sweat Stenched Stardoms
Who are dizzied by our failure
to convert our last chance into a golden goal.
Oh yes! The laws of the game back you to play with both limbs
While the goal hungried working force
Chase back and forth
After that small round leathered air filled thing like Lunatics-
Crushing Crunching Pushing Sweating Suffocating Bleeding and Kicking
Only to survive
The privileges you enjoy on the field of play
Surpass half of what the vast working force do taste
One-sixth of the playing time goes to treat your hypocritical injury.
We tremble from the thunder you rumble when danger is sensed
to prove yourself innocent when against us a goal is scored.