Football Poets

to faith in sometimes……… (survival of the wealthiest)

remember when we used to say
survival of the fittest
these days wealth is the new fitness it seems
but what is wealth
skill talent money or humour?
sometimes – in order to survive
we look to wealth –
that which we have
and that which we don’t
just to survive
to rise above and endure
the slings and euros
of other clubs’ outrageous fortunes
and by staying up somehow – to end them
long gone euphoria
long gone optimism
long gone early season aspirations
when fixtures blank were beckoning
with hopes high and soaring

such is this life – up and down
keeping afloat – flaunting riches – or feigning them
existing on the breadline
as poets – how like unknown footballers we are

torn forever twixt dreams of promotion
and nightmares of relegation
longing to love and be loved
from the Guardian to the Mirror
from OK to Hello
When Saturday Comes to 4-4-2
the stuff of dreams is classless..
hello reality -whatever it is

sometimes we forget
to remember
what came first
the football or the passion
the play or the players
the game or the glamour
and sometimes it’s hard to see
the Sky or the mountain
the game for the hype
the beauty for the tension
the wood for the trees
the quality – the result
but sometimes we remember
we are being breathed

sometimes we forget
both mountains will always be there
the mountains of things that we do
the mountains to climb and the view

and sometimes we feel
however high we climb
however much we move
we are still in the same place
but something moves
something changes
and something grows
what do you call it ?
i call it love

love of the game
love of football
love of believing
love of life

but sometimes
when we leave that crazy mountain
the endless pile that we create
to climb that living mountain
eyes open
hearts soar
time freezes
and we remember
to take a breath

and in that moment
wherever you stop
to choose a spot
maybe that is the very spot…
where
content with yourself
at peace with your team
wherever they began
and wherever they end up

a place to be
where grass grows under your feet
but the ball of your heart is in the air
a place to be you
a place to be grateful
a place to be free
a place to be safe
whatever safety means to you that is…

and in this life
surely
isn’t that
always
the best place to be?.

until next season that is……

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