T'was the night before the tourney, when all though the KYSA house
all manner of coach and ref were stirring and snacking like a mouse.
The coaches were planning and strategizing with care,
In hopes that the goals would soon be there.
The referees were nestled in their FIFA restart positions,
While visions of reckless tackles danced in their heads.
And AR's with their flags, and I in my World Cup kit,
Had just settled our brains for a long tourney stint.
When out on the pitch there arose such a clatter,
I sprinted to the spot to see what was the matter.
Away to the foul I flew like a flash,
Ripped out my wallet and threw up a yellow sash.
The sun on the breast of the freshly cut yard
Gave the lustre of gold to the newly flashed card.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a defensive wall, with eight tinny... defendeer.
sigh, that's all I've got.
First pictures from the 2012 KYSA Slurpee Cup...