Football Poets

The Lille Lament Medley

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Oh No!

¶ 2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 No, oh no,
Joey Ndo
Cannot go
To the show.

¶ 3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 He took a blow
Down below.
Joey Ndo
Is laid low.

¶ 4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Woe, oh woe!
We’ll miss him so
Apropos
The ebb and flow.

¶ 5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 What a pro!
Toe to toe,
To and fro,
Quick, quick, slow.

¶ 6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 We all know
Without our Joe,
The Gallic foe
Will loudly crow:-

¶ 7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 “Mon chapeau!
Joey Ndo
Cannot go
To the show!”

¶ 8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 An Unfortunate Accident

¶ 9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 My wife and I went for a stroll
Atop the cliffs in Howth,
An exercise that cleans the soul
And enervates us both.
And as we walked, we spoke at length
Of Shelbourne’s game with Lille,
Of David Crawley’s inner strength,
Of Alan Moore’s sore heel.

¶ 10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 By her good mood, I deemed it right
To broach the thorny question,
Hoping she might see the light
And warm to my suggestion.
These things, I knew well to my cost,
Must happen circumspectly.
One slip might mean the battle lost,
As I had found abjectly.

¶ 11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 “If only we could have the chance,”
I said with visage pensive,
“To go and watch the lads in France.
It isn’t that expensive.
I’ve checked the flights out on the net –
There’s still some bargains going.
And isn’t it a tie that’s set
To get the juices flowing?”

¶ 12 Leave a comment on verse 12 0 She stopped quite still and cocked her head
And eyed me most maliciously.
“No wonder you’ve” [she slowly said]
“Been acting so suspiciously!
We had a deal, as well you know!
Coruna broke our budget.
And now you say you want to go?
Come on, now, don’t fudge it.”

¶ 13 Leave a comment on verse 13 0 “Ah, love,” said I. “Put trust in fate.
I’m sure we can afford it.
The plane is waiting at the gate –
It’s no great shakes to board it.”
“And who will mind your kids?” she snapped.
“You’re really too impulsive!
These marvellous plans that you have mapped,
I really find repulsive!”

¶ 14 Leave a comment on verse 14 0 I’m not too sure what happened next –
It happened very suddenly.
She slipped right off the edge, perplexed,
And landed very woodenly.
Perhaps a sudden gust of wind
Had caught her off her balance?
For steadiness, I’d often grinned,
Was not one of her talents.

¶ 15 Leave a comment on verse 15 0 Down the steep cliff path I ran
To summon some assistance,
Slightly miffed my cunning plan
Had met with such resistance.
They reached her body, bashed and scarred,
And I identified her,
Then tightly grasped her credit card
That they had found beside her.

¶ 16 Leave a comment on verse 16 0 I called the kids and told them how
Their mammy went to heaven.
They both can mind themselves by now –
They’re nearly eight and seven.
And I’m uncertain what I feel,
Still caught up in my sorrow,
But thrilled at flying out to Lille
By aeroplane tomorrow.

¶ 17 Leave a comment on verse 17 0 Kinger Outverbalises Rico Shock

¶ 18 Leave a comment on verse 18 0 If Shels should beat the French side,
The Kinger did explain,
The result would surely put them
Up on another plane.

¶ 19 Leave a comment on verse 19 0 Rico said he fancied
The Redsmen from Drumcondra,
But I bet that he was jealous of
The Kinger’s double-entendre.

¶ 20 Leave a comment on verse 20 0 Stuey Byrne Returns

¶ 21 Leave a comment on verse 21 0 Valeron was barely in it,
Could not get free for a minute.
Compare how much Senor might earn
To what is paid to Stuey Byrne.

¶ 22 Leave a comment on verse 22 0 The lads from Lille are playing well,
It seems that they’ve begun to gel.
They’re sure they’ll breeze through the return
But they don’t know ‘bout Stuey Byrne.

¶ 23 Leave a comment on verse 23 0 Dogged, skilful and persistent,
Valeron was non-existent.
Soon the Lille midfield will learn
About the brilliant Stuey Byrne.

¶ 24 Leave a comment on verse 24 0 The more the pressure games the merrier,
Stuey’s at you like a terrier.
Strange no English clubs discern
The qualities of Stuey Byrne.

¶ 25 Leave a comment on verse 25 0 Suspended from the first leg action,
Shelbourne lost their star attraction.
Yellow cards can cause concern
To those who follow Stuey Byrne.

¶ 26 Leave a comment on verse 26 0 The Frenchmen, famous for romance,
Will soon be asked up for a dance.
It will not be facile to spurn
The attentions of Shels’ Stuey Byrne.

¶ 27 Leave a comment on verse 27 0 The room they had will be eroded,
The dice have been precisely loaded.
No time to run, no space to turn,
Completely blocked by Stuey Byrne.

¶ 28 Leave a comment on verse 28 0 Looks like Peter Beardsley but
He has a stronger, surer foot
Effective at both bow and stern,
The superhuman Stuey Byrne.

¶ 29 Leave a comment on verse 29 0 The French team cannot formulate
A plan to bar him from the state.
Customs might try to intern
The mountain that is Stuey Byrne.

¶ 30 Leave a comment on verse 30 0 Let’s hope the Lillies do not try
To sign our hero on the sly.
Though doubtless any team would yearn
To sign a player like Stuey Byrne.

¶ 31 Leave a comment on verse 31 0 He Ain’t Heavy, He’s Eoin Heary

¶ 32 Leave a comment on verse 32 0 Our captain is no fatty,
He isn’t overweight.
To think so would be batty
And quite inaccur-ate.

¶ 33 Leave a comment on verse 33 0 Burger? Will not try it,
Nor vinegar-soaked chips.
He has to watch his diet –
It all goes on his hips.

¶ 34 Leave a comment on verse 34 0 He doesn’t like a bevvy
And he only drinks what’s right.
So why’d they call him Heavy,
When the teams ran out last night?

¶ 35 Leave a comment on verse 35 0 The Flower Dies

¶ 36 Leave a comment on verse 36 0 In little under half an hour,
The French had crushed our fragile flower,
Plucked the petals, left them lying
O’er the barren wasteland, dying,
Flickered in the chill wind, but
Were roughly trampled underfoot.

¶ 37 Leave a comment on verse 37 0 The Song of Our Two Centre Backs

¶ 38 Leave a comment on verse 38 0 I said Hello Moussilou, goodbye heart,
Sweet Moussilou, you drove us far apart.
Well we knew from the start
Of your sweet art,
Well, hello Moussilou, goodbye heart.

¶ 39 Leave a comment on verse 39 0 Novelists

¶ 40 Leave a comment on verse 40 0 The lads were writing a novel together,
An epic tale of love and weather.
“Their Own Misfortune” seemed to fit,
For they, alas, were the authors of it.

¶ 41 Leave a comment on verse 41 0 One Consolation

¶ 42 Leave a comment on verse 42 0 At least we weren’t unlucky,
We were beaten fair and square.
Our lads were strong and plucky,
But they didn’t have a prayer.
The French were worthy winners,
As most people will concur,
While we seemed like beginners,
Which in fact was what we were.

¶ 43 Leave a comment on verse 43 0 Tactics

¶ 44 Leave a comment on verse 44 0 Did we get our tactics right?
Why not play four-four-two?
Fitzpatrick set our game alight,
As he is wont to do.

¶ 45 Leave a comment on verse 45 0 The four-five-one had served us well,
‘Twas difficult to change it.
The system gave the Spaniards hell,
Pat couldn’t re-arrange it.

¶ 46 Leave a comment on verse 46 0 But Lille are going well in France,
They have a great rapport,
Although we might have stood a chance
If we’d played eight-eight-four.

¶ 47 Leave a comment on verse 47 0 Going Left

¶ 48 Leave a comment on verse 48 0 The crosses went left,
The tackles went left,
The marking went left,
The passes went left.
The headers went left,
Decisions went left.

¶ 49 Leave a comment on verse 49 0 All through the night,
Nothing went right.

¶ 50 Leave a comment on verse 50 0 Two Nil

¶ 51 Leave a comment on verse 51 0 The view that we had oft expressed
Was we could hack it with the best
Until
We lost two nil.

¶ 52 Leave a comment on verse 52 0 Our lads were chomping at the bit.
In spite, though, of our iron grit
And will,
We lost two nil.

¶ 53 Leave a comment on verse 53 0 We went for wets instead of slicks,
They could have bagged another six,
But still,
‘Twas just two nil.

¶ 54 Leave a comment on verse 54 0 Hand on heart, they were too good,
Despite what faith that Nutsy could
Instil,
We lost two nil.

¶ 55 Leave a comment on verse 55 0 The Gallic lantern had been lit,
Deciding that a lesson fit
The bill
And won two nil.

¶ 56 Leave a comment on verse 56 0 We could not cope with Acimov,
A player who is not run of
The mill,
Helped win two nil.

¶ 57 Leave a comment on verse 57 0 The second goal just cast a pall,
Gutted us and made us all
Feel ill,
Behind two nil.

¶ 58 Leave a comment on verse 58 0 The road ascended all the time,
And soon we knew we could not climb
That hill,
Behind two nil.

¶ 59 Leave a comment on verse 59 0 Defending was supremely sad,
By half time, half our lads had had
Their fill,
Behind two nil.

¶ 60 Leave a comment on verse 60 0 A match we’ll try hard to forget,
The Autumn rain came bouncing wet
And chill,
‘Twas still two nil.

¶ 61 Leave a comment on verse 61 0 Commentators all agreed
They murdered us for strength and speed
And skill
To win two nil.

¶ 62 Leave a comment on verse 62 0 Like regimental soldiers who
Like all good pros precisely knew
The drill,
To win two nil.

¶ 63 Leave a comment on verse 63 0 The Lillies knew they could not fail,
Swallowed us just like a whale
Eats krill,
To win two nil.

¶ 64 Leave a comment on verse 64 0 Fitzer sitting on the bench,
Itching to get at the French
And thrill,
Though down two nil.

¶ 65 Leave a comment on verse 65 0 The French were singing in the crowd,
The final whistle blew out loud
And shrill,
Lille won two nil.

¶ 66 Leave a comment on verse 66 0 There is a Field in Northern France

¶ 67 Leave a comment on verse 67 0 There is a field in Northern France,
Beside the Belgian border,
Where once we had a golden chance
To make a new world order.
We bravely scrapped against our foe,
Our big guns blazing brightly,
Eye to eye and toe to toe,
The war not taken lightly.
But they’d more seasoned personnel,
Superior artillery,
And though we fought the battle well,
They placed us on a pillory.
Two shots rang out beneath the sky,
And all our hopes were shattered,
But this, our last and fatal cry,
Was not what really mattered.
For though we fell in solemn duty,
And many mourned our loss,
Even more perceived the beauty
Of the stark white cross.
The phoenix does not feel the pain,
All sorrows are depleted.
Our spirit, maimed, will rise again –
It cannot be defeated.

¶ 68 Leave a comment on verse 68 0 Believe!

¶ 69 Leave a comment on verse 69 0 And now the dream is shattered
And it’s time to take our leave.
Our confidence is battered,
And we’ll shed a tear and grieve.
The French completely shattered
Any dreams we might achieve,
And our ego has been clattered,
More than many could conceive.
There’s some will say we flattered,
Flattered greatly to deceive,
But the thing that really mattered
Was the keenness to believe.