Frozen Fight
Under grey November skies we played,
Our sticks struck sparks on turf well-worn.
Three-one it ended — but hearts don’t fade,
From loss, a fiercer pride is born.
Mari’s touch — unlucky twist,
The ball rolled wrong, an own-goal’s sting.
Yet she rose again, grit in her fist,
Still fought as though to crown a king.
Becca fired — bright, clean, true,
Her hits like lightning through the rain.
But luck, that fickle thing we knew,
Kept glory just beyond our gain.
With only one sub, we pressed on,
Legs burning, lungs aflame with fight.
Still every pass, each break of dawn,
Showed courage carved in fading light.
Emma — a wall of steel and grace,
Her saves drew gasps, her name well-earned.
“man of the match ,” her rightful place,
In every dive, the tide she turned.
And quiet strength — Bea and Sophie there,
No headline sung, no spotlight’s gleam.
But steady hearts beyond compare,
The silent heroes of our team.
So though the score may mark defeat,
Our spirits write a truer line:
We fought as one — through cold and heat,
And left the pitch with heads held high.