Destined victory on the battlefield

Destined Victory On The Battlefield

As I walk towards the immaculate field,
The ball in my hands my sword my shield,
I stand proud in my sheen kit of black and red,
The opposition bellow "why don't you just cede";

I lead my team into the battle,
The sound of the crowd, the board's that rattle,
The ref's whistle beckons the war,
The sound of thunder as the ball hits the floor;

The clash of the scrum, the hook of the ball,
The lift of the player, the line out real tall,
Two minutes left and we're losing by five,
The ball in my hands for the line I strive;

I look up and face my team,
My heart pounding, my eyes gleam,
The score's level, the kick's taken fast,
The ball goes over, victory's ours at last.