Football Poets

Despite the dreadful run of results
culminating in that 8-0 thrashing,
the Manager still retains the Boards’ full backing.

Notwithstanding the anger of the fans
(or the on-going players’ strike)
we will not be […]

It was a game of two halves
and we were crap in both of them,
we reflected,
blowing the froth off our pints
in long, dejected sighs.

If only we didn’t have a defence
as watertight as the Titanic;
or a striker […]

As we trooped in hypnotised procession
to the turnstiles,
the coaches from the North flashed by.
We heard them before we saw them:
a walrus-throated, guttural
‘Leeds, Leeds, Leeds……’
from the passing wagon […]

At school,
in the hotbed of the playground,
I’d always volunteer to play
left-wing
‘cos that’s where he played-
Laurie Cunningham,
best player I’d ever seen
in all my nine years…..

Years later,
I was back in a […]

Come on,son
if we leave now
we can beat the traffic-
the ref’s gonna blow
any minute
anyhow.

But we can’t!
We might score!
I can’t bear to miss a thing!
Besides,
five quick goals for victory,
is not beyond the […]

Those were the days my friend:

Hark now hear the West Brom sing
a King is born today
His name is Cyrille Regis
and he’s better than Andy Gray!

Cunningham- wizard of the wing;
Bomber Brown, Godden in goal;
Wile […]

Old Trafford in December:
Masochistic snow-flurries and charlatan winds;
but every numbed finger
was warmed through
by the streams of fire from the pitch.

McIlroy was good,
the Greenhoffs and Buchan fought all […]

On the coldest night of the year,
I trembled with cold and anticipation
in equal measures
as we neared the ground
and warmed our heart and voices
for the fray.

Dad was Pickwick-
his glasses streaming up
from […]

The only advantage of peeing in the rain
is that, if you have a little accident,
no-one notices, as you’re already soaked!

1979. A fine vintage. A smattering
of Cunningham, a dash of Bomber Brown.
A whoosh of […]

Close quarters around the radio,
we listened in church-silence
to the troughs and peaks
of the commentator’s voice;
and the sudden surges of noise
that hinted at distant glory.

One step away from […]

The first time should be savoured;
like keeping the tastiest morsel
until the last mouthful,
so it lingers there
and permeates into every recess.

Uncle Tony took me.
Coventry City; midweek game.
As we jostled […]

They sang it on the terraces
Someone daubed it in a bridge
In the middle of the plumed night
Back in ’68;
When all Evertonians
Lay soft in melancholic slumber.
In muddied white
We lifted the FA Cup;
Thanks to […]

Looking up from the obituary
Of another goalless draw
You said:
I remeber the Cup Final of 1954.

Turning down the noise
Of another dismal quiz show
You smiled:
We were the first to have a telly
In our street, you […]

He might have played for the Villa
Yes, for Wolves and Coventry too,
But our Big Cyrille
Was Albion through and through.

Scything though defences
Like a lumberjack through trees,
Along with Cunningham and […]

Waiting to get into the Brummie Road End
Is the only time I don’t mind queuing.

The eager jostling and pre-match gossip –
(New signings, todays’ opposition, who’s in form),
Raises it divisions higher than the […]

Saturday afternoon spent in bed.
Our eyes had tuned in
Over a clothes rail in Miss Selfridge
And, conversations about size 12’s,
Empire lines,
And the size of her bum
Were forgotten.

An hour later,
She padded […]