Poet Authority Poem Terminal

Roland somehow fell into the role of the football team's manager
He remained completely clueless
Hadn't so much as even opened a textbook on the matter
He was struggling with the diagrams
Trying to work out what the drawings of fields with arrows on them meant

Jose Mourinho, one of the football managers, was having an absolute nightmare
He spent weeks printing up giant flags and ironing out creases and was looking forward to hooking them over the empty seats
But now he couldn't find the keys to his stadium anywhere and his wife just kept asking where he saw them last
And Ole Gunnar Solskjaer wouldn't stop calling asking for tactical insights

The footballers had managed to outrun the coronavirus after reports it was scared of sports and were all excited to be back
They'd got bin bags over their legs and were showing off their jazzy footwork as the bags rustled around
The men who were going to take the throw ins also had to wear bin bags on their arms
Every time one of them touched the ball they had to run to the side of the field and have their bags replaced
And the crowds were silent because they didn't exist
But boy, the footwork was jazzy

People went to the park to play frisbee
They stood in designated frisbing zones and launched their discs at each other
Park rangers wore hazmat suits and roamed between the players
They zapped the discs with anti-covids as they flew overhead

Peter was desperate to visit the pub
He set up a dart board in the kitchen and started lobbing his trusty spears towards it
The fridge quickly became perforated and the dog was leaking all over the floor

Rafael Nadal forgot his plimsolls

His feet lacked the grip he had become accustomed to

He was slipping about all over the place

And he was very slow out of the blocks on return games

The concrete sphere atop the plinth confused David Beckham

It shattered his legs repeatedly

Sue escaped the studio.
She followed the crumbs.
Now she basks in the sun.
The men rally round.

It wasn't his typical Friday night

He poured out a glass of wine and turned on Sky Sports

Then farted so loudly he worried the neighbours might hear

If they inquired he'd be blaming David Seaman

That sounded like a name he had heard before

A thunderous sound reverberated around the apartment again

'Damn it David Batty!' he screamed

The plan was already falling apart

Sebastian Vettel forgot his helmet and overalls
Ferrari said he'd have to do the race in his vest and underpants
Sebastian was upset and cried until they called his mum
She was sure she packed them and told him to check his bag again
Lewis Hamilton looks on enjoying his tiny carton of milk

Sue from the tennis still reads out questions.
They laugh at nothing.
She feeds on crumbs that have fallen from cricket Phil.
I'm not sure anyone knows they are still there.