When it was time for games,

To the footy field we came,

All in different strips,

Time to pick the teams,

As captain, it was I to pick the first,

I chose he that was always last,

The autistic boy who couldn’t kick a thing,

To win the game mattered not,

It did not mean a thing,

We had already won the match,

We scored the golden goal, as soon as he joined in,

Now that was twenty years and more,

I remember on that winter’s day,

Our game together, and our win.