Football Poets

The lull before the storm

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 A haunting silence
Falls across English
Football once again
Like a hollow bowl
Of emptiness
So near and yet so far
Another tournament
That promised jewels
On German foothills
But only yielded
A pitiful whimper
In Euro 2024
Another Final,
Another defeat
But hold your heads high
It could hardly have been
Any worse
Now the Premier League
Beckons like
A lighthouse beacon
Winking lights
In the distance
Just under a month to go
Business as usual
Before, as if
Nothing had happened
The Beautiful Game
Slaps on its
Garish, cosmetic make up
Mustn’t forget the lipstick
And yet why?
Since football always
Looks pretty without
Any of those facial
Adornments
Handsome in August
When the bowling greens
Of football’s pristine
Petticoats,
Re-start in earnest
The Premier League
Flaunting their finest clothes
Not long to go before
Well clipped and manicured
Grass, smooth as coffee
Drink in that atmosphere
Players and managers
Take to centre stage again
Bare chests on late summer
Terraces and stands
Stretching far and wide
Football’s loveliest tapestry
Ready for the nine month
Marathon again
City, once again favourites
To do it all over again
Not five in a row, surely
The Premier League
Must be dreading this
But records are there
To be broken
Arsenal and Arteta
Like dragons breathing fire
Down clammy Manchester City
Shirts and skies of
Light blue
Arsenal, probably
Lucky at third time
Of asking, it has
To be their season
Never felt better,
Fitter or stronger
Law of averages
And there was
Legendary Liverpool,
Leafing back through the
Ancient pages of history
When Bill Shankly and Bob
Paisley made it look
So effortless
Jurgen now gone
But never forgotten
Heavy metal football
And yet light and nimble
On their feet
Spurs, now almost
Too comfortable on
Their richest sofa
Of the top flight
But the Double, like
Some vanishing star
From an age ago
Somehow Blanchflower,
Medwin, White, Dyson
And Jones
Are now strangers
In modern playgrounds
But let us never exclude
Manchester United
From the glittering lights
A stunning tour de force
Under Fergie’s fledglings
Who swept all comers
Under dusty carpets
Winning Trebles, cups
Premier Leagues, FA Cups
Champions League twice
Garlanded by the great and good
Now though Eric
With all the delicacy of
The Dutch
Who never made the right
Grade at World Cup jamborees,
Eric Ten Haag
Can those all conquering
Unbeatable days
Be recaptured?
Can modern day Beckhams, Giggs,
Butt and Scholes
Break through the summer haze
Into autumnal shades
Of fabulous football fiestas?
The Premier League just
A couple of weeks away again
Just for a week or two
Football on level playing fields
All equality since
Three points mean nothing
In early August or September
Before the juddering juggernaut
Sets off on that memorable journey
To who knows where?
By Christmas and the New Year
Clear pictures emerge
City, giggling in the background
Catch them if you can
Arsenal chase in hot pursuit
Spurs, Liverpool, Villa
You’re on their elusive coat tails
They could be contenders
And Bogart could only agree
Rub your hands with
Chants of choice words
It’ll be the Premier League
Again
Coming to a cinema
Near to you
Let the drama and chaos
Begin once more

7