Football Poets

Mr Wordsworth walks to Bolton
He wandered lonely as a cloud
At evening in the encroaching dark
When all at once he saw a crowd
A floodlit game at Burnden Park!
“Dine at the Packhorse” along the roof
The dri […]

On this island, is it Saints or Pompey,
what do you say? Don’t ask me, my friend;
I’m a Bournemouth fan from Alum Bay.

When you look north, from Cowes,
or east, from Ryde, I’m around the headland
at Chilt […]

one Christmas in the trenches
they stood in mud and sand
their loved ones and their football
a distant far off land –
the snow lay thick as thick could be
a bitter chill did spread
behind the sand bags and t […]

She was talking to me under the radio,
under the Saturday food programme
guests cautioned against innuendo

who went for humour in unlikely combos
while eyes sank lower above the wheel.
If anything can […]

This little-boy-masquerading-as-senior-citizen
still dreams –
but it seems
reality is ever more clear-cut;

for every piercing pain
or aching joint
brings an inevitablility of non-attainment
to this football-nut!

Everton v Newcastle 3-0
This kind of brave and
convincing display
by Everton is some kind of
Amadeus Mozart music when
the passes were followed by
Ole! and Ole!
But there is all the music of
the world […]

I buried myself in my sport
There’s no doubt I gave it my all
For whenever a match was mentioned
Without fail, I always heeded the call

Put a ball at my feet
And I was off like a whippet
Always to the s […]

on heady days stood in the Shed
for six sweet years you were
imperious and smiling
as we tore out our hair
when I was young on Saturdays
I’d be there win our lose
and you stood firm composed and s […]

Sat in the stands (sic) in my cheap plastic seat,
Eden Hazard in his prime appeared at least to me
A little smiling faced kid, having unfathomable fun
That he chose to turn down a shed (sic) load o’ dough […]

Peeling spuds, washing glasses
Using knives n forks, serviettes and plates
With us…t’was greasy mitts in a chicken box,
Blue shirt proclaiming; “Gian-Franco Zola. God!”
Quaffing Stella by a mega aqueous telly […]

Carefree…we’ve finally elected our M.P.
But will he turn out be…the absolute db’s?
Could be eventually. Though…looks to me
Like we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?
If, or when we get relegated […]

Drop o’ rare old mountain dew
Silver flask passed twixt a few
Helped keep howling cross field chills at bay
After mass, hastily assembled over The Scrubs,
Cheered on by muckers and close bloods
Deemed a pro […]