Football Poets

OFB

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 I’m just an ordinary football bloke.
Played a bit when I was still in school.
Scored a couple winners.
Met some girlfriends. Ate some dinners,
and I’ve shared my share of stories from this stool.

¶ 2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 I’m just an ordinary football bloke.
Live in town a golf shot from the ground.
Seen my share of fixtures:
leagues, reserves and cup ties; mixtures.
If I fall before last call, alone, is there a sound?

¶ 3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 I’m just an ordinary football bloke.
Not much one for opera or ballet.
My long-suffering wife
once showed me how to use a knife.
Now I can chew the things I saw, but not filet.

¶ 4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 I’m just an ordinary football bloke.
Preferring beer to fancy drinks or wine.
Just a simple feller,
needs a tap and not a cellar,
and some fish and chips and ketchup when I dine.

¶ 5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Maybe I’m a little jaded.
Museums, tastings, galleries.
It’s either old, or sour, or it’s faded,
and bought or sold on football salaries.

¶ 6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 I’m just an ordinary football bloke.
Haven’t seen the world or read that much.
Last time that I travelled
our back four almost unraveled.
See, it helps them if I stay and keep in touch.

¶ 7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 I’m just an ordinary football bloke.
Others are the wheels. I’m just a spoke.
They can have their money.
I have always thought it funny:
where we’ll all be going we will all be broke.

¶ 8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 I’m just an ordinary football bloke,
tired of hearing ways I could improve.
Keep your steps and stares
and go ahead and put on airs.
All I need’s the Northern League to hit my groove.

¶ 9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 I’m just an ordinary football bloke.
Happier the weekends my club wins.
We’re up: the family’s cheering;
when we’re down, they’re disappearing.
During derbies our old sofa’s full of pins.

¶ 10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 Ask me would I ever trade it;
my time with the Game, for something more.
No one would ask who’d ever played it,
or lived or died a season from a score.

¶ 11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 I’m just an ordinary football bloke.
My strip is rightly stained and somewhat torn.
The back reveals a name;
a player hasn’t played the Game
since well before my youngest kid was even born.

¶ 12 Leave a comment on verse 12 0 I’m just an ordinary football bloke.
Hope my girls and boys turn out like me.
You need lots of cash
to ride or sail, if that’s your splash,
meanwhile, to kick about a ball with friends is free.

¶ 13 Leave a comment on verse 13 0 I’m just an ordinary football bloke.
I will follow football ’til I’m dead.
You can have your high life,
wouldn’t trade a day of my life.
I would rather be an OFB instead.

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