I am beginning to reflect more and more about football. Why did I fall out with football? Well I think a lot of it has to do with the modern game. I find the Premiership montonous. Everyone is so obssessed with money now, the Man City situation has proved that the game is all about money. I decide that the best way to express my feelings is to get something down on paper. I came up with this poem, and it may be the first of many pieces that I produce focusing on my relationship with the beautiful game.
The King of Africa
So talented
As strong as an ox
A predator in the box
One hundred and twenty grand a week
Part of an exclusive clique
Yet you bitch and moan
With Mourinho on the phone
Follow a 25 yard drive
With a ridiculous dive
You have everything, but your never happy
Didier Drogba – the modern footballer
And self proclaimed King of Africa
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