In the center of the field stands the favorite player 
The ball comes floating in, they say a silent prayer for him. 
Fifty yards away, a minute left to go 
The ref looks at his watch;  Oh, oh
He cuts it to the right, gets past a defender 
A blur of blue and white, the moment hangs suspended in time. 
One man left to beat 
He can see the goal-keeper’s eyes 
There’s magic in his feet;  Oh, oh 
And a single ray of sunlight reaches down to touch the golden boy 
Seems to light his way towards the net 
In his mind he sees the headlines in the morning newspaper 
This’ll be a day they won’t forget 
Now he’s on his own, completely in control of it all 
The shot comes flying in, headed for the corner of the goal 
Bounces off the post, he watches as it falls 
Everyone will say, he should have passed the ball 
Now the crowd has gone, the stadium is empty 
Several hundred times he will watch the replay on TV 
Many years from now when his name’s recalled 
Everyone will say, he should have passed the ball