A Welcome in July
In July 2007, we welcomed the following new contributors to this site :
Lee Davies
Bryn Roberts
Jim Dolbear
Alastair Rae
Rik Manning
Ezra Jefferson Cope
From Darlington Family Learning, we welcome :
A blast from the past – a welcome return to
Phil Brennan , who last posted back in January 2006.
Click on the names above to see that person’s poem(s), or browse some selected first efforts below :
Ron Davies. Southampton F.C. 1966-73.
He could hang in the air
like a bird of prey,
and outjump anyone on a Saturday.
Sydenham or Paine crossed,
then big Ron would soar,
a header in the net
then came the crowds roar.
Bigger clubs wanted him
he stayed at the Dell
A legend he became,
gave defenders hell
The best nine in Europe,
his peers they all said.
For many a long year,
Southampton he led.
Now the bone hard pitches,
and the muddy heap
Have taken their toll,
it”s so hard to sleep.
With hip joints and knees,
he now feels the pain.
But Saints fans who saw him,
will not see his like again.
Fond memories never fade,
when others have gone.
We will never forget,
a Saint called big Ron.
© Jim Dolbear. 2006.
haikued off at chelsea.
Silence at the bridge
Calm before the storm.
Mime games,or is it mind games?
© Jim Dolbear. 27.07.2007.
How long will Jose keep a diplomatic silence?
I want to be Robin Friday
It was a cold Friday night at the ‘Vic’
Pools hoping to give Cardiff a bit of stick
But one man stood in their way
His silky skills made the oppostion click.
Robin Friday was his name
No one else could do the same
A true legend and sheer class
He knew how to play the game.
Cardiff fans adored Man Friday
And Poolies applauded him too
I went home that night
Wanting to be Robin Friday too.
© Alistair Rae / Kirsty 24
One night in May
Out of the darkness came passion and glory
Passion in red; glory in white.
Glory once; glory twice; glory thrice.
Glory thrice but thrice no more.
Passion waning but glory fading,
For glory does not last forever.
Passion once with leadership
“Still time for the impossible to happen maybe…”
Passion twice with a final farewell
“Miracles are possible…”
Passion thrice with skill
“And mission impossible is accomplished…”
And passion, with one final dive
Saves the day.
The Reds are Champions of Europe once again.
© Bryn Roberts
I wrote this poem after the final of 2005 in istanbul, one of the most memorable nights of my life.
Tottenham HotSpur
Lethal Ledley King,
Sneaky Steed Malbranque,
Hilarious Hossam Gholy,
Persisting Paul Robinson,
Aspiring Aaron Lenon,
Dramatic, daring Dimitar Berbatov,
Brilliant BenoitAssou-Ekotto,
Cautious Callum Davenport.
Righteous Robbie Keane,
Joyful Jermaine Jenas,
And lastly tiny Teemu Tainio!
© Ezra Jefferson Cope aged 9
crispin
i want to write a poem about the sainted game
its based on one cool guy and crispin is his name
he gives me inspiration coz he can feel my pain
and if he didnt cope with me I would go insane
amongst the madness in this world
there’s one thing we can say
that football gives us common ground
there seems no other way
we can talk about our club and the 4-3-3
and we voice our point of view
in true di-ver-sity!
cispin brings us all together
from all points of the earth
with music, words and jollity
he gave this website birth
so love this site and this game
which enthralls us all
and give a thought to crispin
who keeps us on the ball
this is leading to my point
’bout what i have to say
that crispin keeps it going
out of love not pay!
© rik manning
not much of a poet but you know it !! x for jenny
We are Manchester United
We’ve got Ronaldo, down the wing!
When he gets the ball the fans start to sing!
We’ve got Hargreaves, in midfield!
Hargreaves can also be a defensive shield!
We’ve got Rooney, to score the goals!
We’ve got Old Trafford, the pitch with no holes!
We’ve got Giggsy, down the left side!
When Nani gets the ball, defenders start to hide!
We are Man U!
And this is what we do…
We get the ball and pass it around!
Give it to Ronaldo and hear the cheering sound!
He gives it to Nani, who dribbles the ball!
Rooney, Rooney, Rooney the fans start to call!
So Nani passes to Rooney, and he scores!
We are Man U!
And winning is what we do!
© Lee Davies
I support Manchester United… So I just decided to write the poem!
John’s Chelsea Poem
Can score a goal from halfway mark.
He always passes to a different player.
Eating bad he will not score.
Love to have the ball on his foot.
Shout yes when they score.
Eats the air when they run.
Angry when they miss.
© John Wilson
About This Site
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!
My Account
Latest Poems
Crispin Thomas
25th January 2023
joe morris
23rd January 2023
Denys E. W. Jones
23rd January 2023
joe morris
14th January 2023
joe morris
8th January 2023
kevin raymond
7th January 2023
joe morris
6th January 2023
Crispin Thomas
6th January 2023
kevin raymond
5th January 2023
kevin raymond
4th January 2023
Crispin’s Corner
In Memoriam
Kick It Out & Christmas Truce
Latest Comments
5th December 2022 at 8:11 pm
Stuart, you are not alone, in your dichotomy of doubt
but without dissention
you stand alone
in hogging our attention!
See in context
16th November 2022 at 11:04 am
[Football on soiled turf]
This is a wonderful phrase which I shall be using from now on!
See in context
15th November 2022 at 3:54 pm
Well said Crispin. One of the reasons for The Ball 2022/23 is exactly this – that FIFA need to know. The Ball is essentially a petition to FIFA to honour their commitments to the UN Sports for Climate Action Framework. They signed up; they should act. The Qatar tournament takes the World Cup in the opposite direction to that commitment. And 2026 looks like it’ll be even worse.
See in context
8th November 2022 at 2:06 pm
Hi Guys
Re ‘Lets Boycott Qatar ‘ poem
You probably hate me banging on..and problably know (like me) that my/your not watching the World Cup in Qatar will make no difference.
Of course it won’t. That’s not the point.
OK someone might possibly eventually publish a minimal drop in terrestrial TV viewer numbers, but I fear that is unlikely.
But please above all, do go on writing poems about the World Cup, as/you we have always done. I hate to think a poem or two of mine might l make you feel bad about comenting on a game or country …or that I’ve put you all off about wanting to contribute.
So we’d love to hear from you and read your thoughts and observations, as ever on what’s going on.
Some of us have been here since Football Poets website birth/inception for the Euros 2000 ….
All my best wishes
Crispin
See in context
18th October 2022 at 10:06 am
Shoot! (Something we’ve also been screaming in vain at our team all season !)
Great memories Joe . Before Shoot, it was Roy of the Rovers comic too, dropping through my letterbox.
Anxiously waiting each week to see if they survived in the mexcian jungle after an ambush..or a pre-season earthquake!
See in context
3rd October 2022 at 8:32 pm
Thanks for the kind words Sharon. Yes, it was a shame with Billy Shako, but with five subs now being allowed, he might yet make it off the bench. Even if it’s just a cameo to close out a poem.
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2nd October 2022 at 1:49 pm
John, your new book is an absolute delight and more please. It’s a shame ‘Swapping Shirts With Shakespeare’ never made it off the bench, but quality football poets light up the writing fields like Roman candles. Go well.
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4th September 2022 at 12:42 pm
Great memories Greg. Took me right back.
Today I stand on a small terrace in the hills where I live watching Forest Green Rovers in L1, and keep up with Chelsea on highlights. It’s a far cry and a world away from those times when I lived as a child within walking distance of ‘The Bridge’ – just off the Ifield Road, which led to Fulham Road. The Blues were rubbish for so long, but we loved them and somehow we stayed in the old First Division for so many seasons. And of course we got to see Greavesie at his impudent best, scoring goals for fun. Mad unpredictable games where we’d score 4 and let in five.
The looming floodlights in the dark and mist on magic night games. The big games when the ground heaved.
I don’t think we ever realized how magical and incredible it was back then. The atmosphere and arriving there so early – like you said.. just to make sure you got in. Back when Bovril, tea and cake and roasted peanuts for sixpence a back were just about all on offer.
Good times.
See in context
4th September 2022 at 12:37 pm
see above
See in context
18th August 2022 at 10:20 am
To put it politely!
See in context