The Final Kick By Michelle Dee

The beautiful game it is not. Your team may well be unbeaten, what about the innocent victims who fall prey to vicious attack. Hooligans spoiling for a fight a score to settle before the landlord blows the whistle. Pouring onto the street a horde of fists and feet. Uniform shirts with the stench of beer chanting songs of hatred, like mindless Nazi thugs. Insignia worn like a medal on their chest.

An army to rival her majesty's best, intent on violence and destruction. Blood sport played out on a killing field. After the final kick the real fun begins. Hunting the enemy they prowl the town knocking down anything in their path to the goal. Seeing red stained on the opponents shirt. a victorious end to match day. Watch the highlights on the ten o'clock news, then see the results.. White coats tackling the casualty queues. Those stretchered off during injury time may live to fight another day. The wounds heal the bruises fade, but the fear lives on and the memory stay.

Copyright © Michelle Dee May 2004

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