Saturday mornings see me managing an under 11 football team. It can be a lot of hassle, but good fun too. This weekend was a nightmare. Because of one inadequate little man, I've had to write a long and boring report to out local league, and will probably have to do the same for the FA.

Not sure if this is poetry - but it's been niggling me all day. Perhaps this will get it out of my system.

This would-be-god wore black

Dressed in black this small man struts the pitch
Glorying in his own authority.
His word, the word of God.

Twenty two minds react to His decisions and commands.
It doesn’t get any better than this.
Years of frustration fade to nothing
As He strides His stage.

Until….

A challenge to his omnipotent power.
First aid given to a stricken subject without His permission.
A refusal to apologise -
Match abandoned.
Twenty-two bemused children
Stare at their would be deity
As he struts from the field,
Chest puffed,
Proud.