Poems tagged ‘Defeat’
A Lot of Hard Work
The whole week long we trained hard for this match.
We practised corners, throw-ins, penalties.
And free kicks too, from fifteen, twenty yards.
Next came an hour of dribbling around cones,
To make sure that our skills were finely honed.
Then sit-ups, press-ups, other such exertions,
To guarantee that we were fully fit –
Our Boss is a great one for risk-aversion.
When match day came, a pep talk from the Gaffer,
To psyche us up, ensure there were no slackers.
But after all that, how did things pan out?
We did enjoy our fair share of possession.
Yet could not transform that into a lead.
We hit both posts and bar in quick succession,
But lacked the slice of luck you always need.
Appeal for penalty of course denied.
And linesman’s flag went up to show offside.
Then at the death a treach’rous cross came in…
Our Keeper failed to grab… their Striker pounced,
And bunged the ball into the Onion Bag.
So after all that effort, we got beat!
A lot of work, lots of hard work
Went into that defeat.
16/9/2024
Denys E. W. Jones
Oxford City 1 – Chesterfield 2
Tuesday night football, but it feels like you’re cheating
when the air in front of your face doesn’t fog up, just breathing.
But there we were, a balmy 18 degrees,
sky blushing pink over the JR,
six hundred Spireites busting the roof off the shed,
and almost fourteen-hundred in total at the RAW, someone said.
Two losses on the bounce and up against promotion favourites…
So it’s a burger and chips and a catch-up on the tarmac,
then the whistle blows and off we go and Tuesday nights are back.
“Come on City!” someone shouts hopefully…
The ball pings around; long balls get smothered and punted back;
a beautiful take from Canice stops an attack and we all clap…
and then ten minutes in we suddenly start to think:
hang on a tick – we’re in this…
Form’s good; quick on the break; passing play and the boys are looking strong;
and though Chesterfield are there in full-throated song
you sense by the half hour mark they’re worried something’s wrong.
Nil-Nil at forty-three minutes, fans sneak off to beat the rush for the bar,
and the conversations are the same:
“Tell you what, mate, we’re in this game!”
“Three points incoming!” and “We’re only gonna win it!”
But then someone comes through with:
“Conceded from a blimmin’ corner – last minute.”
Ah, b******s.
That spices things up, as The 1882 splits into it’s usual mix
of resigned tutters, aged nutters and optimists
(plus one or two who just came for the craic and a beer).
Drinks drained, fans merge back into the City crowd as play gets underway…
and Marsh Lane finds its voice again, as the boys come out in full display,
pushing hard, quick to counter… and then maybe it’s a bit of luck
but Parker’s through and into the net
with a side footed strike the ball get’s tucked,
to the sound of whoops and hoots and cheers and hoarding boards thumping
and the Hoops are bouncing and everyone knows we’re seeing something…
And we are – a beautiful half hour reminder of who we are,
and but for another inch stretched for a toe-poke in,
or a more solid forehead on the end of an Ashby cross, who knows…?
But then comes the hammer blow as Will Grigg shows
he’s still on fire,
at eighty-eight minutes,
and the Shed End erupts
so close to the wire,
and crestfallen Hoops watch the minutes dwindle down
to chalk another loss…
But we all saw that glimmer, and twitter’s already pinging
with Chesterfield fans, magnanimous in winning,
saying: you deserve to be here.
And you know what, if a draw might have felt like a win,
a loss played like this feels at least a draw, at three games in,
building into our own with forty three still left to play…
and there does seem something just a little more relaxed
about the way that Brian tips his cap, and says: we go again at Halifax.
#rowanthepoem
Oxford City 0 – Rochdale 1
So, Rochdale at home, and there’s a lot to unpack,
(a tough one today, but I think we missed Zac…)
we kept a good shape, pretty strong at the back,
(but, still, we were definitely missing Zac…),
we moved it about well, but shy in attack,
(cos, you know… like I said, we were missing Zac…)
and when caught on the break, just a little bit slack,
(but then, maybe not, if we’d only had Zac…)
in midfield it feels like there’s something we lack,
(yes… plays like a daemon, calls himself Zac?)
and we know, from the fans, that we’re gonna get flak.
(No, we do understand… but please: get well soon, Zac!)
#rowanthepoem
stinger
a painful defeat
is like a heat-
seeking-missile
it follows you
it tracks you
it locks on….
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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!
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joe morris
17th November 2024
Crispin Thomas
17th November 2024
kevin halls
10th November 2024
joe morris
10th November 2024
Clik The Mouse
10th November 2024
Clik The Mouse
6th November 2024
Alex Saynor
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joe morris
29th October 2024
joe morris
17th October 2024
Denys E. W. Jones
16th October 2024
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In Memoriam
Kick It Out & Christmas Truce
Latest Comments
13th September 2024 at 6:14 pm
Welcome to Football Poets Beth
Great evocative poem Beth….
More please !
Haiku always welcome.
Hope we (FGR) get to play you again soon
Best
Crispin
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26th July 2024 at 6:25 pm
Great poem Mike Bartram. Eddie was a legend, affectionately known in Liverpool as, “the first hooligan.” Even the hoolies were well dressed in those days. The amazing thing was he was only 26 when that picture was taken. He’d played for Everton youth team and was well known to the players. He never got arrested. They threw him out and he climbed back in, just in time for Derek Temples winner.
I used the picture of him being tackled to the ground on the front cover of my book, “Once Upon a rhyme in Football.” It’s worth looking on youtube and finding the re-enactment of the Wembley scene. Frank Skinner and Baddiel went around to Eddies home in the 1990’s and acted it out on the green outside. It’s hilarious, especially all the effort they put in to get Eddie sober enough to shoot the scene.
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10th July 2024 at 6:07 pm
Hi Crispin,
I don’t know if you’ve see the picture in social media today…
a picture of a teenage Lionel Messi cradling a baby in Africa as part of a photoshoot…. the family had won a lottery to have their baby pictured with him….
the photographer has just revealed that the baby is actually in fact Lamine Yamal!!!!
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26th May 2024 at 2:30 pm
Hi Denys…
Re Man City:
OK it was 20 years ago but Criag Wilson did write this and a few others on them back in 04/05.
BTW I’m more Forest Green Rover since 2014 (and Chelsea) these days . I drum and am a standing season ticket holder .
Best
Crispin
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29th April 2024 at 2:47 pm
Hi Denys,
Yes Richard Williams you’re a brilliant wordsmith, my friend. When I first saw your football poetry I thought it was the superb Guardian sports and music writer. I once had the honour of sitting next to Richard Williams while at the Independent on the sports desk. He writes about music and sport with immense knowledge and authority. I’ve read a couple of Richard’s books recently. Great writer rather like you Richard Williams the Pompey fan. Congratulations on promotion.
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28th April 2024 at 5:59 pm
Thanks Denys. Yes your replay poem was superb.
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26th April 2024 at 4:46 pm
Nice work, Joe. You were quick off the mark with that! Good one from Richard Williams too I see.
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25th April 2024 at 7:33 pm
Hi Denys,
Thanks mate. I’ll do it now.
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25th April 2024 at 1:56 pm
Thanks Joe,
you might like to write a poem yourself on the same subject…
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23rd April 2024 at 4:03 pm
Hi Denys
With you all the way on the abolition of FA Cup replays. What are they doing to the game?
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