Matter Of Interpretation

I am a football Just look at me you all How sorrowful! How horrible my life is! I, a small, weak And poor creature All twenty two players Keep on kicking me Sending me from left to right From ground to height Fast and slow Slopy and low Without any mercy Showing no pity Can you find any Who is being beaten And punished Even if he not guilty The net spoke No, sister You are becoming Wrong interpreter You are clever and quick For, without a blink You keep on running All the players stunning And after you Their whole crew Madly rush to hold you And you as I think An uncontrollable creature Write their own future