I WANDERED LONELY AS A REF

I wandered lonely as a ref
That books ‘em high and books ‘em hard,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden yellow cards;
Beside the striker, face down in pain,
I reached for red, they cried in vain

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Match of the Day,
They stretched in never-ending line
Be it at home, be it away:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Raising their fingers in sprightly dance.

The Mexican waves beside them danced
In drunken sparkling waves of glee:
The crowd could not help but be cheerful,
Such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the game to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
Replays flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure glows,
And shines just like Sir Alex’s nose.