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Poems tagged ‘Croatia’

Switzeland Spain & Italy Triumph E24 #2

Magyars toil in vain

Swiss roll over Hungary

in a sea of red

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with Yamal’s sweet pace

though outnumbered in the stands

Spain lay down their mark

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shocked from the word go

holders sink Albania

to restore their pride

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Petko

They call him Petko
He sunk Brazil in Extra Time
He sunk Netherlands in  Extra Time
The Peter Pan of football

Netherlands 2 Croatia 4
Nations League Semi-Final
in Rotterdam

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Five Star Spain Again .Day 16 Euro 2020 haiku

five star Spain again

Croatian fightback falls short

Morata the key

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England & Croatia’s Day12 ~ Euro 2020 haiku

threat’ning to ignite

England top with seven points

grind out a result

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Scotland hearts are crushed

Modric skill denies his age

for Crostia

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Memories are Made of This

Remember when the Likely Lads
Wanted to avoid the final score?
Well, this was the exact opposite:
A twenty first century digital version
Where we expect constant updates and news.

But don’t get them.

For alas! There is no signal at all
At twelfth century Llanthony Priory;
And just a fleeting momentary contact
High up in the hills by Offa’s Dyke,
Where you gaze upon blue remembered hills,
And a faint silver gleam in the east:
The River Severn, and the Cotswold hills of home.
But what good is that when you want to know the score?

We started our climb from the Priory,
and asked fellow foxglove ramblers
If anyone knew the score.
No one knew.
No one was bothered.
No one was interested.

We climbed some more.
And reached two box trees,
The remnant, Bill thought, of a box hedge,
Where once a cottage stood,
Where once, Bill thought, slates and shingles were cut,
By some Wordsworthian revenant;
And there, a few yards further on,
A crumbled wall; once, perhaps,
The enclosure for the slater’s cow,
And a once tended vegetable patch:
A Wordsworthian moment, it’s true.
But an imagined solitary
From a reimagined Lyrical Ballads
Could not provide me with the score
From the end of the 18th century,
And nor could the next group of wayfarers.

But the next trio offered hope.
Walkers in red Welsh shirts.
I talked of the recent Wales v Switzerland match,
And, duty done, I thought I could broach the topic:
‘I don’t suppose you know how England are getting on?’
‘Well. Do you know. Up there I had a funny feeling.
I felt that Sterling had scored.’
His mate called out: ‘But that was before they’d kicked off.’
I checked my watch. 3.25.
Are they having me on or not?

We carried on climbing. Phone running low.
A momentary signal and message:
‘Ooh ah Roonata’;
I knew that Charlotte Rooney had drawn
England in the sweepstake. So, this was good news.
But was it a delayed celebration of a goal?
Late coming through? Or the result?
But battery low and signal lost,
I was none the wiser in the heather,
The cotton grass and the billberries.

We carried on climbing.
To reach a cairn high up on Offa’s Dyke.
And here I exhausted my phone with a message to Charlotte
And here I sat, exhausted, with joy and relief:
Her reply: ‘One nil to us.’

Bill, who has no interest in football,
But who enjoys football cliches,
Wondered if I would like more context,
And read, verbatim, the words of the players,
In an old school Private Eye,
Ashen-faced Ron Knee Mockney accent.
It was a signal moment:
Gammon, as it were, declaiming
The words of a new England,
And the new England silencing the boo boys.
This is the new ‘Us’.
Football’s Coming to a new Home.
To a new Us.
That’s how it felt by the cairn, high up on Offa’s Dyke.
I crossed my fingers.

And we came home to Llanthony Priory
For a couple of celebratory pints;
I stood where the monks once sat penitent,
And asked a young man if he knew the result –
He looked as though he might want to know.
‘Old school,’ he said. ‘No signal.
I had to use a pay phone down the road.’
We laughed.
Bill started to sing:
‘Memories are made of this.’

They certainly are.
And I’m dreaming of a new England.
Without the boo boys.
And so when I got home,
I signed this petition:

http://www.standuptoracism.org.uk/statement-signed-by-politicians-union-leaders-and-campaigners-opposing-the-booing-of-players-taketheknee-government-failure-to-act/

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Raheem, Raheem, Raheem, Raheeem…

A sterling performance
Scenes of afternoon delight
Southgate’s outfit portray a suave slick , sartorial elegance,
A bunch a deft dapper dandies, and…not a waistcoat in sight.

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England Win! Day 3. Euro 2020 haiku

Sterling makes his mark

England take that first sweet step

with their fans in voice ~

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WC2018 Day 25 FINAL – haiku

Parc de Triomphe
Mbappe inspires the Gauls
Allez Les Blues

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Runners up, yet
Croatia proud as can be
Gave it their all

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Got what we wanted
Six goal fitting finale
World Champions France

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Final had it all
Six goals and V.A.R. too
French profit

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Cryuff of the Balkans
Player of the Tournament
Runners up medal

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Thibaut Courtois
Magnificent net minder
Golden Gloves award

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Arise Sir Harry!
Six goals netted overall
Golden Boot award

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Conspiracy Theory or VARsh Reality?

Corner kick in his mind
Eyeballs the monitor behind
Before racing back on to the field…
Vlad appears on the miniature screen
Snarling, broody like, mean,
“Right sunbeam this here’s the deal…

Your blossoming movie career
Finishes here
Unless them French boys get awarded this pen
I’m meeting McDonald in Helsinki this week
Could pull a few Hollywood strings so to speak?
Or there’s the Gulag my son, then again…”?

Said pen gets knocked in
France go on and win
Croatia’s complaints – like their hopes – disappear
In a Moscow hotel bathroom mirror
A referee takes time out to deliver
His winning speech for The Oscars next year.

Does the above make any sense?
Or am I talking absolute nonsense?
Well…no-one’s saying you have to believe me?
But this here conspiracy theory
Holds more credence, I’m sure you’ll agree,
Than yesterdays VARsical World Cup reality?

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VARcically Les Bleus ~haiku

France 4-2 Croatia

spoiling things again
VAR the villain here
on this final night

never lying down
oh how brave Croatia fought
when injustice reigned

never at their best
once again Les Bleus emerge
trophy in their hands

yes they have the skills
in Pogba and Mbappe
but only in bursts

one strange ending this
to a wild enthralling month
here in Russian rain

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