seems appropriate as we once again contemplate supping at the devils table... Can I have my ball back, mister? I want to stand, not sit, Nor advertise some oligarch on a redesigned replica kit. Can I have my ball back, mister And rise above the tripe Of multi-national money men And dodgy agents' hype? Can I have my ball back, mister, And suffer no more WAGs, Nor read of sordid episodes Of striker's tawdry shags? Can I have my ball back, mister? And I'll rebrand the sport, To substitute the sheikhs and fakes Who count but don't support. Can I have my ball back, mister? I'll launder their odure, To launch it in the hellish pit Of Lucifer's manure. Can I have my ball back, mister? What arrogance, what shame, What cynic stole such innocence? I want another game. Dermot Carney Stay sane everyone...
