Where Have All The Good Players Gone?(Re-visited)
now they say if you recall the sixties
you probably weren’t even there
but i can still see it as clear as the day
all those flowers and dreams in your hair –
from the first of the CND marches
to football games muddy and free
from angry young beatniks in cafes
to those idols that thrilled you and me-
and i’m not getting loved up or fluffy
but i wonder what really went wrong
for yes it was mad and pathetically sad
but where have all the good players gone?
for when it took blaze like a sunflower
it exploded us into the new
we knew we were hooked like a frame on a wall
when the Beatles first sang ‘Love Me Do’
but i think of a time when their lives met with mine
it’s nostalgic but what can you do
do you winge on and on for a time that is gone
when a player earns just what you do –
they were innocent dream-like completely naieve-like
and so much in tune with the day
they would walk to the ground just to save half a crown
have a drink at the end of the day –
and training was one or two jogs round the pitch
and goalies were tubby and fat
you’d struggle to find just one head in the crowd
that was minus a chequered cloth cap –
Tom Finney ,young Greavesie and sweet Dennis Law
Stan Matthews George Bestie and all
Ray Pointer ,Nat Lofthouse and big Billy Wright
enraptured… to take home the ball –
its a long time – long time for the wrinklies
its a long time that’s come and has gone
its a long time through programmes all buried in dust
but only the memories live on –
and i bet they all ponder how different it is
and i bet it all seems kind of strange
when they pick up the papers or check on their texts
just how much their lives might have changed –
but i bet not a man left among them
could hold back a tear on the cheek
and they’d do it again just the way they did then
for the thrill and for ten pound a week-
those men with the partings all brylcreemed
and shorts that came down to their knees
they alway looked older at twenty
thank god for the nineteen-sixties –
when chin chimmeny- chin chimmmeny- chin- jimmy hill
gave freedom to limits on pay
and loosened the wages for those of the time
like Broadbent and Crerand and Haynes
but who would be brave enough now to invoke
a minimum wage once again
would we start off at ten- grand or fifty a week
like peanuts to modern day men –
but we stood through impossible weather
no cover in rain hail or snow
we got soaked we got squashed
and we sang when we lost
then off to our parties we’d go –
yeah we were the joke of the sixties
with players we used to adore
who gave daffodils out in the night clubs
but they don’t give ’em out any more –
we were well up for grabs to be mocked into shreds
we were something to giggle upon
but now that our game and our planet grows dark
where have all the good players gone?
but it wasn’t about just the money
for the money just wasn’t about
and it wasn’t about being big like the Stones
for heroes who all went without –
and it’s easy for Lord Micheal Jagger
to say how he finds it a bore
when old blokes go on- about how it all was
when he’s no longer struggling or poor –
for we were the fuses before it went off
brought up on a war that was gone
but I still can’t believe – when I look at this world
where have all the good players gone?
it was all so incredibly class-less
all working class people turned hip
it came out of the blue -and it changed me and you
just like grandad had taken a trip –
it imploded on into the stadiums-
those old grounds of concrete and soul
it imploded on into the sudden new dives
and discos all down the Kings Road-
it exploded on into the hairstyles-at Anfield the Beatles would blare
but down at the Bridge it was always the Stones
and the mods with their razor shorn hair-
we sat glued to the tele all through the World Cup
and we watched it in black and in white
you couldn’t get tickets for love nor money
and we partied long into the night-
and we droned on and on about karma
and how we would bunk into games
and how we would one day sit up in the stands
but we all felt it wasn’t the same-
we lost players who trainers just patched up too quick
and others just drank it away
and we knew that the future could never get worse
but we sure couldn’t picture today-
or picture a time without football and wine
much more than a poem or song
there were so many good players knocking around
does anyone know where they’ve gone?
so where’s it all gone can you tell me
was it merely a phase we’ve outgrown?
all swopped for the safety of ‘live-for-yourself’
and the most up-to-date ringing tone..
if you care about football and heroes
and realise something is wrong
can anyone out there please tell me
where have all the good players gone?
for they sold us a dream and they’re selling one now
with fashion and money for goals
and they take from the game but they never give back
they just rip-off the kids heart and soul
you can call us nostalgic and jealous
you can call us whatever it’s worth
but one thing i know…is wherever I go
im in love with this game and this earth –
and i wake ev’ry morning in wonder
and i look out away ‘cross that hill
and i think of the next generations
and i pray it will all be here still
you can call me a total old hippy
and they call me one my whole life long
but now that they’re threatening the heart of the game
where have all the good players gone?
Notes:
Ive shortrened this a bit but it’s still massive! ….and this is the Scott Mackenzie San Fran Re-mix Haiku shortened version..and yes-i know- there are loads of great players today …i think what i’m trying to say is about attitude…and that un-spoilt nature…of players and a time before money took over…yeah ok money is a wave..and stuff like that…. but show me a player today unaffected and un-changed by it.. that’s all….and correct me if i’m wrong.. but isn’t there more to football and life than money…you know what they say – in the writings of old…you can’t take the Worthington Cup with you when you go… (or are there any Egyptians out there who still think..that if they win the World Cup one day they can take it with them when THEY go? …..viza viz pyramids and stuff aaaaarrrrgghh!
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Welcome to Football Poets -- a club for all football poets, lovers of football and lovers of (alternative) poetry. Discover poets in every league from respected internationals at the top of their game to young hopefuls in the school playground.
Publish your football poems here and then discuss them with your team mates and fans. We're archived by The British Library, so your masterpieces are in the safe hands of a world-class keeper. What a result!
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Latest Comments
27th November 2024 at 5:55 am
‘You’re Supposed To Be At Home’ is an excellent and moving poem Denys.
You start off thinking it’s just about another oft-sung chant, one we personally heard a lot last season throughout our second relegation in a row here at Forest Green(FGR) ! I always love poems where you think they are saying one thing and then they suddenly pull you deeper to somewhere or something else else.
I’m currently helping in a local school for FGR in a voluntary capacity using football to help young students with reading. At an upcoming session we will tackle racism, just like we did in workshops at football schools and grounds when we first started this site 24 years ago. I’m gonna try and weave your poem into a session.
We’ve added it to the Anti- Racism/Kick It Out section under Crispin’s Corner.
Best C
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26th November 2024 at 1:59 pm
Great poem and great to see you back Wyn.
Don’t leave it so long next time my friend!
More please.
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13th September 2024 at 6:14 pm
Welcome to Football Poets Beth
Great evocative poem Beth….
More please !
Haiku always welcome.
Hope we (FGR) get to play you again soon
Best
Crispin
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26th July 2024 at 6:25 pm
Great poem Mike Bartram. Eddie was a legend, affectionately known in Liverpool as, “the first hooligan.” Even the hoolies were well dressed in those days. The amazing thing was he was only 26 when that picture was taken. He’d played for Everton youth team and was well known to the players. He never got arrested. They threw him out and he climbed back in, just in time for Derek Temples winner.
I used the picture of him being tackled to the ground on the front cover of my book, “Once Upon a rhyme in Football.” It’s worth looking on youtube and finding the re-enactment of the Wembley scene. Frank Skinner and Baddiel went around to Eddies home in the 1990’s and acted it out on the green outside. It’s hilarious, especially all the effort they put in to get Eddie sober enough to shoot the scene.
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10th July 2024 at 6:07 pm
Hi Crispin,
I don’t know if you’ve see the picture in social media today…
a picture of a teenage Lionel Messi cradling a baby in Africa as part of a photoshoot…. the family had won a lottery to have their baby pictured with him….
the photographer has just revealed that the baby is actually in fact Lamine Yamal!!!!
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26th May 2024 at 2:30 pm
Hi Denys…
Re Man City:
OK it was 20 years ago but Criag Wilson did write this and a few others on them back in 04/05.
BTW I’m more Forest Green Rover since 2014 (and Chelsea) these days . I drum and am a standing season ticket holder .
Best
Crispin
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29th April 2024 at 2:47 pm
Hi Denys,
Yes Richard Williams you’re a brilliant wordsmith, my friend. When I first saw your football poetry I thought it was the superb Guardian sports and music writer. I once had the honour of sitting next to Richard Williams while at the Independent on the sports desk. He writes about music and sport with immense knowledge and authority. I’ve read a couple of Richard’s books recently. Great writer rather like you Richard Williams the Pompey fan. Congratulations on promotion.
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28th April 2024 at 5:59 pm
Thanks Denys. Yes your replay poem was superb.
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26th April 2024 at 4:46 pm
Nice work, Joe. You were quick off the mark with that! Good one from Richard Williams too I see.
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25th April 2024 at 7:33 pm
Hi Denys,
Thanks mate. I’ll do it now.
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