Poetry Corner Kicks: U.S.A 2 - Portugal 2

Me too Fabian. Me too. - Mark J. Rebilas-USA TODAY Sports

Poetry Corner Kicks feels empty.

Deflated, empty, exhausted, punctured, hollow, gutted, angry, despondent, morose, sad, crushed, crestfallen, disconsolate.  These are just a smattering of descriptors that applied to me when the whistle blew to end the match between U.S.A. and Portugal.  To be so close and end up so far from the round of sixteen was crushing.  I sincerely hope the players can move on faster than I can, because this one is going to sting for a long time.  The only possible salve is a win or a draw against Germany to advance, but that is no small task.

If you have been reading my poetry recaps for any length of time, you’ll know that sometimes I’ll take a pre-existing poem and "spoof" it if the theme of the poem fits with the game I am recapping.  I was tempted in this case to find a poem about sadness or loss, but that would simply be a reflection on my feelings currently.  In actuality, the U.S. played pretty well here and a draw against Portugal in the World Cup isn’t a horrible result.  We were just SO CLOSE!  Let’s recap this epic affair, shall we?

The teams were all pumped up to play
This Amazon-Rainforest day
Sun, heat, humidity (unholy trinity)
Slowed up the action displayed

The Yanks soon were found in a hole
When Cam’ron could not gain control
His horrible clearance caused no interference
So Nani had space for his goal

That goal came in just minute five
So the U.S.’s hopes were alive
They tried some possession and showed some aggression
That caused all their fans to revive

The Yankees were pushing the game
And placing their shots in on frame
It seemed just a matter of time ‘till they shattered
The lead that the Portuguese claimed

The Amazon was growing hotter
The "runners" were turning to "trotters"
The ref called a break for all of their sakes
So everyone could get some water

The second half soon was begun
The Yankees were still down by one
So Bradley would try to pick up a tie
But by a D’s knee was undone

But after that chance had been blown
And U.S. fans started to moan
A shot came from distance which proved the existence:
A new U.S. hero named Jones

So we enter the eighty-first minute
When both teams were reaching their limit
Then Graham hit a cross that Clint put across
The goal line; it seemed like they’d win it

With mere seconds left on the clock
And three points the topic of talk
Ronaldo defiant of up-till-now silence
Crossed for a goal that would shock

The U.S. had played a great match
But a win is what they couldn’t snatch
So it’s off to Recife to find some relief
As Deutschland they try to dispatch

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