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Exponents, players, from everywhere else
Plume away from Edge Lane Station to Stretford Mall
To play Bradman’s shots and deliver like Wes Hall
Just wait, and let the sight of this vivid field of green
be the place where dreams become real

Maybe, think, why play anywhere else?

Brooding clouds bound azure skies beyond the door
as worms feast upon rusty autumn leaves
The light merely a stranger upon the shore

Rollers glisten with the biting frost, wholly, untamed
Hopes for the season ornament the darkness
While the heroes of tomorrow wait, as yet, unnamed (with pad rash)

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