Football Poets

How much more can we take?

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Honestly, England
How much more can we take?
Patriotic nerves in tatters
Taken to the brink
No finger nails left
Clinging on for dear life
Wobbling and swaying
On the precipice
Don’t look down from
The tightrope
Precariously balanced
But England through
To the last four
Of Euro 2024
We’ll never know how
The divine intervention of
Fate or karma
Kissing the Blarney Stone
Perhaps, we’ll never know
Luck pushed to the limit
Last night it was in the stars
But surely not again
The Swiss were bliss
Or were for a while
And yet those tea leaves
Were definitely on our side
No crystal ball needed
It had to be England’s night
Gareth Southgate always believed
In the indefinable,
The impossible dream
England, beyond any
Description or category
It seemed to be goal-less
Indefinitely
Even the midnight of German
Cathedral bells were chiming
For 90 minutes and extra time
Embolo found holes in
England’s brittle defence
Of good old fashioned
Cheddar rather than Swiss Edam
Switzerland break the deadlock
Oh not again
This time it’s for real
We’re not kidding
It’s goodbye England
Farewell to arms
But, Hemingway
Had nothing to do with
European Championship
Football
England were on their
Way out
Minutes ebbing away
The sands of time
Trickling rapidly
Away from
Gareth’s gallants
But then Saka
Bukayo, give that man
A knighthood
Saka saccharine
No sugar
Bukayo, the sweetest
Shot you ever did see
Cutting back on his defender
Jockeying for position
On the angle
From the edge of the area
Driven with vicious vehemence
It flew like a missile
Arrowing past the keeper
Trajectory perfect
It was a goal ages
Before it left the Saka
Feet of ferocity
The equaliser and
The nation gasped for air
No more, please
We can’t take any more
Then Bellingham, Foden,Rice,
Mainoo almost too quiet,
Modest and understated,
Walker and Stones
Like Buckingham Palace guards
Muddling through to the end
Still figuring out Pythagoras
Theorem, those
Mysterious angles,
To pass or not to pass
That is the question why?
What to do with a football
Do they take that
Calculated gamble
Or Russian roulette
Decisions, decisions?
So many blocked roads
Sand bagged motorway cones
Switzerland seemed
To have England
Exactly where they wanted us
Take the next junction
They seemed to be implying
No, exit off that roundabout
Got you, Gareth Southgate
And finally extra time
No hope of a result
Whatsoever
England desperate to
Fill up the petrol tank
Rejuvenation time
But last night it all felt
So much better than
The group stage rehearsals
Drained but not out
The Three Lions were
Still roaring in
That concrete German
Jungle of European
Predators
And then the dreaded penalties
Not that old chestnut again
Beauties every one
Jackpot and on the money
Swiss miss one
Most painful blow
Vital and crucial
Before Trent
With a Merseyside song
In his heart
Crosses his metaphorical ferry
Steering the ball
Navigating the six yard
Conundrum with
A penalty tucked away
With the rock steadiest
Charm offensive
Now for the flying Dutchman
For a Final classic
Against either the French
Or, possibly Spanish
Can dear Blighty
Withstand the tantalising tension
Hearts pounding like
The familiar triphammer
Private fears about Dutch revenge
For Euro 96
But no, this is England’s year
New government, new European Champions
But no labouring again
It’s now 58 years
Since the world turned on its axis
And time to celebrate again
England your country need you
To win again, finally
It can’t be too much to ask for

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