“The battle where men perish shuddered now with the long
man-tearing spears they held in their hands, their eyes were blinded
in the dazzle of the bronze light from the glittering helmets,
From the burnished corselets and the shining shields as men came on
in confusion. That man would have to be very bold-hearted
who could be cheerful and not stricken looking on that struggle.
Two powerful sons of Kronos, hearts divided against each other,
were wreaking bitter agonies on the fighting warriors,
since Zeus willed the victory for the Trojans and Hektor,
glorifying the swift-footed Achilleus, yet not utterly
did he wish the Achaian people to be destroyed before Illion
but only was giving glory to Thetis and her strong-spirited
son, while Poseidon emerging unseen from the grey-salt water
went among the Argives and stirred them since he was angered
that they were beated by the Trojans and blamed Zeus for it bitterly.”

(The Illiad Book 13 Lines 349-353 translation Lattimore)

Then Terry of the fearless valour came forward into the throng in the box
where battle was thick and clamour great for it was a set piece.
And Mourino had clad him in valour for he had license to get his head on a cross,
for quality was coming in from Hazard. Nor did Drogba hold back,
in the penalty area, he of the bronze strength who had proved his worth
in campaigns many and renowed including the Champions League final
where he had scored that header in the last minute against Bayern.
And Wenger saw that Terry had come up for the cross and he stepped out of his
designated area, to intervene in the action, pulling an extra man back,
who was much vaunted Giroud. And Mourino now stirred as he was much incensed
by Wenger straying out of the designated area, and he too ventured forth,
and vaunting cried out: “You who have not won the Premiership in ten campaigns
nor the Champions League either while I have tasted sweet triumph.
Poor fool, who thought you could slay my team and their parked bus,
stricken as you are in the wake of swift-footed Hazard.” So saying
the hordes gave forth great tumult for the cross came over and struggle
was in earnest with claims for holding and much wrestling of mighty forwards,
though the ref gave a goal kick and the hordes relented their clamour,
and with just a minute left on the clock before half-time,
went to get meat pies.”

(The Illiad. A reworking for modern sensibilities)