Football Poets

A Welcome in June

In June 2007, we welcomed the following new contributors to this site :

Ellen Lang
Angela M Laws
Agostino Puppo
Dave Quinton
Martin Shudie
Brian Reeves
Shazad Hussain

From Mitchell Intermediate, we welcome :

Connor Mackie

Good luck to one of our regular contributors : Mr A Sharma with his poetry book. More info here.

Click on the names above to see that person’s poem(s), or browse some selected first efforts below :

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Rings Round Eddie McCreadie

I always liked Eddie McCreadie
A tackling wing-back of his day
More refined than Ron Harris, not weedy
He moved in a spidery way

Most sides had two wingers, quite shifty
The ‘W’ formation – don’t mock it
They were usually skilful and nifty
But most were in fast Eddie’s pocket

Then I went to a game floodlighted
At Stamford Bridge ‘63
A little lad played for United
And went on a footballing spree

He rang rings round Eddie McCreadie!
Rings and ovals and squares
That skinny wee kid found it easy
Just grinned at Chopper’s hard stares!

He rang rings round Eddie McCreadie!
The fly put the spider to test
Rang rings round our Eddie McSpeedy!!
His name said it all he was…

© Brian Reeves 13th June 2007
If you can’t figure out what the last word should be & who the skinny kid was, ask your dad!

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Sick As A Parrot

There’s a poet in you.
There’s a poet in me.
There’s a poet in the parrot
of the pirate at sea:
‘pieces of eight! pieces of eight!’
He echoes the sounds with impish glee.

There’s a poet in the fan
at the football match,
as he chants his opinions
full of insults rash.
No one escapes on the emerald green,
not even the hapless referee.

As he mocks
his vision,
his birth,
his all:
his Match Day persona
is having a ball.

© Angela M Laws 25th June 07

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Moths to the Flame of Mediaocrity (sic)

Overhyped
Back over here
Well over there actually
But you know the scene
Another Haircut
Another Headline
Beckham’s brilliant boots
Shine like diamonds
Product placements
A rolling estonia
Gathers no Kate Moss
Tattoo you sir?
A keltic kross
A burning angel
In the city
Lost.

© Martin Shudie
David Beckham…

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A Long Walk With My Family

It’s a long walk with my family

Our comrades and our friends

But we take each step happily

To our seat beside The Thames

We can’t be glory seekers

Like Chelsea or United

So we lose, we shrug it off

The day for us not blighted

Yes some of us are dead

And some of us are living

But we just can’t seem to stay away

So all must be forgiving

If you called me glory seeker

I really wouldn’t mind it

For though my team will seek it

They never seem to find it

We have our highs we have our lows

More one than the other

But if you are a Fulham fan

I’m happy you’re my brother

© Brian Reeves 3rd May 2007
My family are mostly Fulham supporters, going back as far as my grandfather, who was probably born in the 1880’s. I saw my first game with my father in 1958, and continue the tradition by being a season ticket holder with my 12-y-o son.

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Sven for City

Today City inherited a bloke called Sven
Who’s last big job was way back when
He ran a small team known as the England squad
Unfortunately he never hailed as a managerial God
He’s arriving in Manchester with a clean sheet
And a job of having 20 teams to beat
Some good may occur now that Sven’s on his way
He might buy some footballers so they’ll have a team to play

© Ellen Lang
Wrote this poem when news broke of Sven’s imminet arrival at Manchester City.

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Peter the Great

He came to the club
Full of Talent and Skill
Little did we know to what level
He would thrill
He came to the club
Full of Talent and grace
With his style and fashion
He lit up the place
To celebrate a goal
He kicked the ball from the ground
They made him pay for it
It was said it cost him a pound
He sat on the ball
To taunt the Devils in Red
He Crossed with his heel
To find the Doog’s head
He came to the club
Full of talent and skill
The day that he left
Not one person spoke ill
Someone had called him
away from the game
The Wolves without Knowles
Could it ever be the same

© David Quinton 12th June 2007

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Genoa: Glory-A

I was raised a boy
down in the Griffin’s Hole
I was quite shy snd coy
hid myself like a mole

but on a sunday afternoon
my feelings just sprang out
Genoa flew me to the moon
I’d dance my dance and shout

Genoa – la-la-la-la-la-la
Genoa – la-la-la-la-la-la
Genoa – la-la-la-la-la-la

now that Genoa is back
back to Serie A
my overjoy I slhould check
yet I go wild hah, hah

so Genoani please sing
sing along with me
what fires up my being
what makes me feel so free

spells G-E-N-O-A
Genoa – la-la-la-la-la-la
spells G-E-N-O-A
Genoa – la-la-la-la-la-la
spelss G-E-N-O-A
Genoa – la-la-la-la-la-la

© agostino puppo 15/06/2007
Griffin’s Hole is ‘Fossa dei Grifoni’ being the historical gathering/association of the most passionate Genoa supporters
Genoani are Genoa supporters

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Beckham’s back!

Free kick at last
Beckham takes the Kick
He scores!

The other team is crying
England is flying.

McClaren is happy
The other is soppy.

England is the best
They beat the rest.

© Shazad Hussain 12 years old

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foot ball is life

football is life
take it as a gift
take it as life
take it forever
take it as a chance
take it as 1 thing
take it as your life is at risk
take it as a clean sheet
take it like pro’s do
take it like us

© connor mackie 14 june 2007

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