Hi, apologies for not keeping up with the ‘welcome’ feature. It’s actually been a while since we did one. The following is a list of people who have submitted to the site for the first time since October last year.
I’ve gone back as far as I can – apologies if I’ve missed anyone.
A very warm welcome (despite the chilly weather) to everyone.
Carl James Dickinson
Dale Hodge & Harry
The pitch lies empty
The nets gently sway
The corner flags flutter
The grass soaks up the rain.
The lines on the pitch are stenciled
By groundsmen who have perfected the art
The stadium has an echo
Concession stands are cold in the dark.
The dugouts sit quietly
No instructions to hear
The stadium waits for Saturday
For the teams to appear.
© D Crump
We are Premier League
We were Eagles for the day
Hunting for the wanted prey
We acted out the game in the back
Andy Johnson lethal in attack
He would be the hero
And we Premier League
We had a good year but it’s over
Championship, here we come
Andy! Andy Johnson!
Could it really happen, the surviving few
Who were we to know; only the players knew
Who cared about W.B.A?
We are Palace, in the Premiership to stay!
Irony dealt us a sickening blow
Jon Fortune’s first seasonal goal
We all cried as one, and couldn’t talk?
Palace served us proud,
Farewell and good luck
© Paul Taggart 01/02/06
We may not want to believe it, though we know that he has gone
The man who summed up all our feelings, as City fell three one
Goodbye Richard Harnwell, you were really quite a guy
I know you’ll still be commentating, from your gantry in the sky.
You were such a character, your type are really rare
As a Stockport County supporter, few with you compare
And though Richard has passed away in his forty seventh year
You can be sure that it’s not the last of him, that we will ever hear.
In the history of Stockport County, his mark is truly made
On many matchday videos, his voice is still replayed
His commentaries conveyed his passion, a truly marvellous sound
He always made you believe, that you were with him in the ground
Stockport County’s king of the ‘mike’, is now watching from the sky
And as we remember him, he would not want for us to cry
He would want us all to laugh, as we sip upon our beers
He would not want to be remembered, whilst we are all in tears.
So farewell to you Richard, I know you are now finally at rest
As friends go I would have to say, you were up there with the best
I hope that where you are right now, you get to see ‘The County’ play
And in your personal heaven, they beat Man City everyday.
© Phil Brennan
Richard Harnwell, a long time friend of mine (and many others) passed away recently after a long illness, he had lived his 46 years following his local team through thick and mainly thin.
He became the club ‘historian’ and played a big part in the club’s matchday ‘commentary’ team for many years.
I wrote this poem as my own personal ‘tribute’ to a man who I shared a passion with, and someone who I will miss for a long time to come.
The pungent smell of ‘Deep Heat’
smacks the cold misty morning
as the 22 players
take to the field.
Two teams confronting
ready for action
who will be
the first to yield?
Muscle to muscle
Leather on leather
A win could be easy
if we all pull together.
The whistle blows,
watch out for the quick break
gotta keep on your toes.
A mixture of tactics,
skill and agility,
brain and muscle power
brought together makes poetry.
A defensive error,
the balls’ over the line
eleven dejected men
all praying for half-time.
Now back to the action
second half of the game.
A quick equalizer
puts them back in the frame.
The tackle comes in
high and hard.
a yellow card.
Yet another harsh challenge
an elbow in the face.
A player sent off
head bowed in disgrace.
Strong words from the bench
tension is high.
The goalkeepers’ kick
rockets the sky.
A header, a pass, a player with skill
past three defenders
he carries on, still.
Then releases his shot
like a bullet from a gun.
It screams into the net
and the game is now won.
The elation of winning,
dented pride of defeat,
shake hands now, its’ all over
until the game next week!
© Joanna Ginger 22/10/90
Fans and Fools – For Kick It Out
I see a sea of citizens milling,
Scattered, seated, standing, swaying
They are swerving, sweating, swinging
Singing and sighing
They are steaming and streaming
Football fans and fools alike
Fans cheer at the sight of the colour of the jersey
Fools jeer at the sight of the colour of the skin
Football fans and fools
They shout and share the joy of a win
They shout and share the sorrows of a defeat
Yes one team has to win.
Tell me then, how does the colour of the skin come in?
Racism is cancer eroding the human spirit
Racism is for imbeciles
Bent on destroying human relations
Bent on destroying the good that mankind has built
I shudder to imagine what would happen
If the world had one race
Look, if we had red roses only for flowers
No white roses, no lilies, nor daffodils
I do not want to imagine
How the jungle would look like
If we had lions only for animals
No leopards, no jackals, nor giraffes
I hesitate to imagine
What the roads would look like
If we had BMWs only for cars
No Ford, no Toyota nor Volvo
No Limousines nor tractor even?
Please do not ask me to imagine
What it would be like
If all of us just agreed on everything
If all of us had one opinion
If all of us looked alike
Were of the same height
Same colour of skin
Same nose shapes
Same colour of hair?
Some have to have big noses
Others have to have small eyes
Some have to be tall like giraffes
Others big and baggy like baby elephants
Yet others short and stocky like rabbits.
So we need blacks
We need whites
We need Asians
We need the Chinese
We need everybody
To beautify the world
Do not tell me
You do not envy
the beauty of the rainbow
So, come on, let us beautify the world
With our different colours
Stand up and be counted
© Albert Nyathi – 11/10/2005 FA .Soho Square
For Kick It Out
Written and performed at the FA HQ Soho Square.Kick It Out Week Launch as part of the Black History Month. Organised by
Kick It Out in collaboration with Chelsea FC,
Westminster Library and Archives, and the FA with thanks to KIO,
Crispin and Peter at Westminster Archives.This poem was written after literally going straight from the plane from Harare to Cardiff with Crispin to watch the Chelsea v Arsenal Charity Shield match in August !