• Magyar Memories
    When melancholy autumn comes to Wembley And hot-dog stands are lighted after tea The poplars by the Stadium are all trembly Then my mind goes back to nineteen fifty-three, When Puskas and his cherry-shirted heroes Made dummies of the founders of the game Too young, I learned about the match from photos But it lodged […]
  • On looking into Puskas’ autobiography
    I don’t write about daffodils or larks ascending Only football … or trains With no rhyme at the ending So here is the fruit of my pains About trains. It was a three-quarters empty local, one day That took me to Hungerford where an old junkshop Half-way up the High Street, beckoned. Eschewing decanters, horse-brasses, […]
  • Anthem for the League One Dreamers
    We’ll win away at Scunthorpe We’re going to make our mark Yes, we’re heading for Old Trafford By way of Glanford Park. You lose some and you draw some But never mind the pain We’re on our way to Anfield By way of Meadow Lane. Some say we’ll never make it Some say it’s all […]
  • Anxiety Before The Penalty Shoot-Out
    (as told by T.S. Eliot) Sudden Death is something you can’t prepare for Said Bobby Robson long ago. That time has come again. Now we are the team, the scarecrow men Leaning together Arrayed like starlings on a wire (One stares Another hides his eyes behind his arm) Time yet for a hundred visions For […]
  • More Vanishing Lines
    Spain, in pain, will soon be on the plane No more tiki, no more taka; guys, it’s time to think again. Vorsprung durch Technik, the future looks bright The Germans bask in sunshine, now they’ve seen the Muller Light. Messi’s messy dribbling needn’t make you cry Remember the Pampas and you’ll stay dry. Now it’s […]