|

Poems tagged ‘Europa League’

Glory, glory, Tottenham Hotspur

joe morris

Thursday, May 22nd, 2025

All the way from the Seven Sisters Road
In our humble abode
And right up to the old White Hart Lane
Once again the melodious refrain
You could hear the voices sweetly tuned
No more the festering wound
Like the dawn chorus of robin and curlew
Stop that night curfew
Serenading the fishmongers and butchers
That must have shook you
Along the Tottenham High Road
After what seems an eternity
This harmonious fraternity
It’s glory glory Tottenham Hotspur
Europa League winners
No more the sinners
What pleasure and relief
From misty moorland and back
To Hampstead Heath
Somewhere Bill Nick and Keith Burkinshaw
Are out there
Peeling back the years
And feeling pretty smug
They told you Spurs would do it
Last night they did
In Bilbao of course
As they clatter their castanets
Back of the goal nets
And flaunt their flamencos
These gleaming mementos
Celebrating with appropriate restraint
Unblemished and without taint
At first
Never quench the thirst
Champagne all around
But then who cares?
They were there
Spurs have done it again
Sangrias all around my good friend
It was there and vivid, just around the bend
For this was an all Anglo Europa League
Final to cherish
A bit of a damp squib
Apparently
Nothing to shout about now
But Spurs claim a trophy
Now that calls for a wow
For so long the bridesmaids
When the flowers were thrown
Wind blown
And yet no longer the hapless clown
Disregard the past no need
To frown
Oh a penny for thoughts
For Ruben Amorim
Manchester United, mortified
No longer fortified
By memories from the past
When Sir Alex was unsurpassable
What a blast
Domineering with Premier League
Trophies that glittered like
The chandeliers of the night
When Old Trafford was feverish
Frenzied, glorious and bright
Like a sputtering bulb that used
To be light
Now United finish their season
With a blunt, horrific shunt
Like a train that hits the buffers
Old Trafford grieves and suffers
United, beaten and defeated
When debates were heated
Against those silky, swaggerers of
Spurs, London as the Tower of London
Buckingham Palace, gone are the nerves
Martin Chivers, Steve Perryman,
Cyril Knowles, John Pratt too
Last night was for you
Ossie and Ricky
Like well groomed palominos
Cunning and tricky
From the decade
That some thought fashion forgot
When we assumed the rot
Had set in, but surely not
But Ardilles and Villa
Never forgetting their lines
The sun permanently shines
When the late 1970s
Spurs will remember their deeds
From the pages of history
Clearing the weeds and rusting
Needs and desires
Finally Spurs hear it on the wires
And clutch last night to
Their tender hearts
Saved from the hungry Premier
League sharks
Of the relegation trapdoor
Not exactly a bore nor flaw
But not though at their best
Lest we forget
That was your night Spurs
That was
Victory
Undeniably so
Finally reunited and revitalised
Energised after a season of woe
Oh no!
No longer anguish and languish
Ange, take a bow our Aussie friend
Spurs in their happiest moment
This will never end
A trophy in their cabinet
Winners again

Be the first to leave a comment »

England in Europe.

joe morris

Friday, April 18th, 2025

Oh what a Good Friday morning
For the English contingent
In European fields of
Burnished brass and
Glorious gold
Last night it was Spurs
And not forgetting Manchester United
Who now find themselves
On the threshold of that
Fabulous coronation
The stately procession
And then
Lifting UEFA’s most
Valuable trophies
Spurs in their
Europa League voyage of discovery
Frankfurt fallen from dizzy heights
Into the piranhas of hungry
North London mouths
It’s been over 40 years
Since Belgian buns were
Devoured ravenously
At White Hart Lane
Anderlecht beaten on penalties
The icing on the cake
Spurs – UEFA Cup winners
What a night that was
But nothing since then
Although the FA Cup in 1991
Did find a clearing in the Forest
And Cloughie waved the white flag
Then there was Manchester United
And the cathedral of sound
Echoing in the chambers with
Thunderous roars at Old Trafford
Last night the French revolution
Left Lyon gasping for breath
Stunned amazement
When victory seemed so assured
Even Napoleon must have
Spun in his grave
And the Champs Elysees
Ground to a halt
Macron mesmerised by the
Stirring rhythms
Of United’s Red Devils past
Returning to the here and now
Where they belong
After the most horrendous
And grotesque, tattered
Remnants of their Premier League
Season, patches of torn fabric
Blowing in the wind
The most dire, dark and dreadful
Season for Manchester United
But now United are on the verge
Of European redemption
Perhaps a European trophy
To repair the criminal damage
For either United and Spurs
To lighten the mood of
The never ending tunnel
Of domestic drudgery
Dreamlike daffodils in spring
For either North London or
Alternatively the North West
It hardly seemed possible
The unlikeliest destinations
But now two matches away from the Final
Finally the Gunners
Toppling the might of Madrid
The legendary craftsmen with
Europe’s classiest tools
Real Madrid
European Champions
In a constant repetition of decades
Is it really 15 or 16 times now?
Arsenal, now reflecting in the
Mirror of what might have been
In the Premier League
A lighthouse of
Magical magnificence
Through the ups and downs
The victories and vagaries
Of dazzling form then
Discarded as an oily rag
Slipping on the banana skin
Of second place
Not quite in the shadow of Liverpool
Who look commanding on the
Palatial verandas of football’s
Most well appointed
Olympic rostrum
But still there’s Manchester United,
Spurs it could turn out
All right on the night
Buoyant and bright
When the Premier League looked less
Than divine
And Arsenal
European Champions?
Deservedly so.

Be the first to leave a comment »

Germany again

joe morris

Thursday, March 14th, 2024

And so the European odyssey
Surges forward unabated
Like the rolling stone
That gathers no moss
With one notable exception
The claret and blue collective
Locks horns with the land of Teutonic
Discipline and efficiency
At ease gentlemen
Shine those boots laddie
Your attention undivided
This is your night
And the opposition are trembling
With fear and terror
Or so Bill Shankly might have said
West Ham, destiny awaits
Our East End acquaintances
Against the one and only
Freiberg, you were conquerors
Once so do it again
One down after the first overture
Now let’s reach a thunderous crescendo
In the second verse
The London Stadium
Hardly knows what to expect
After Premier League
Burnley, yes Burnley
Basement dwellers snatched
A point with purpose
On weekend assignments
Claret not so appealing
Leave that bottle in the wine cellar
And yet tonight
The Hammers must be
At their bludgeoning best
To Iron out the wrinkles
Of that Sunday during
The Ides of March
Freiberg, completely
Overshadowed by Bayern
Munich, Borussia Dortmund
And possibly Leipzig
Swallowed up by bigger
And stronger fish
In the Bundesliga
But still a power
In their neighbourhood
A smaller but tighter
Community of skillsets
Clever and delicate
And not to be dismissed
Or brushed under the carpet
Taken for granted
One European trophy
In the claret and blue cabinet
But the Europa League
Could be a trophy to be polished
For the devoted London Stadium
Followers for many a season
Memories bound in leather for
An eternity
But let us not get ahead of
Ourselves
Surely one trophy in our lifetime
Should suffice
We see Liverpool and Roma
In the headlights
Mighty European institutions
World class on their day
Pedigree personified
Breeding of the highest rank
Still, it could be a night
Of nights
In the East End furnace
Simmering and bubbling
Ready to pass judgment
Happily forthright
Bubble blowers
In the rarefied Stratford
Air with no airs or graces
Olympians in the Olympic park
But then again no fretting
If defeat means the departure gate
But let’s concentrate on
Premier League dynamics
Villa on Sunday
Dangerous this season
In fact lethal at times
Trampled on by Tottenham
Last time out
But frighteningly formidable
On their day
Villains of the piece
Ollie Watkins on fire
John Mcginn, like a puppet
Pulling strings
They seek him there
Everywhere
Goals on their minds
West Ham fragile as glass
On Sundays
Don’t drop the box
Thursdays and Sundays
Never did make sense
Faulty, dodgy connections
Loose wires
Perhaps still in the land of Nod
First though Freiberg
Communication has to be correct
Before Unai Emery’s
Aston Villa
Test the vulnerable chin
Of David Moyes, West Ham
Doughty band of warriors
On the day of Sunday sermons
Germany though
Calling tonight
Defeat far from shameful
But those disgruntled will
Wallow in a slough of Despond
Miserably supping at what
Might have been
Clouds of amber nectar
Scudding across hang
Dog cheeks, sunken
For a while but never mind
So close but so far
But then again victory
May climb off the ropes
Now that’s another story
Happy Hammers
Once again

Be the first to leave a comment »

Source: http://footballpoets.org/news/poem-tags/europa-league/