Football Poets

Bring On The Hatters

At Selhurst Park they sent Dom off,
Though it was ne’er a foul.
They’re threat’ning yet more points to dock,
They kick us when we’re down.

But we are made of steely stuff,
We’ve got hairs on our chest.
We live up to our motto proud –
“Nil Satis But The Best!”

The Replay was at Goodison,
From far and wide they came.
The match weren’t on our TV screens,
So many missed the game.

Sean Dyche put out a full-strength side,
Though some said “Play the Kids!”
A gem free-kick from Gomes
Put Palace on the skids.

The match was drab by all accounts,
Although that hardly matters.
We’ve made it through to the Fourth Round,
So now Bring on the Hatters!

I feel it in my waters.
I feel it in my bones.
That Luton too we shall dispatch,
Move further down that road.

The one that leads to Wembley,
Where we have won before.
Or so I’m told, long, long ago,
In the bygone days of yore.

‘Most nine and twenty years have passed
Since we won Silverware.
Though hard we’re tasked, and storm winds blast,
This just might be our year.

19/1/24
Denys E. W. Jones

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All We Want For Christmas

Yuletide is fast approaching,
And all the talk’s of gifts.
Old Santa’s gearing himself up
To work his yearly shift.

The kids are writing letters,
To make clear every wish.
And adults too are at it,
Young, Old, Black, White, Poor, Rich.

It seems all want a present,
Well, all except us Blues.
We’re sitting on the sidelines here,
For prezzies we’ve no use.

We don’t want any razor blades,
No aftershave or soap.
We’ve no desire for Ray-Ban shades,
We only have one hope.

We don’t require underpants,
No socks or boxer shorts.
No toasters, drills or bedside lamps,
Our list is very short.

We ask no curry powder,
To make a tasty dish.
We’ll shout it even louder,
We only have one wish!

For all we crave is Justice,
Cos we feel mighty miffed.
We think we’ve been hard done by,
Been given such short shrift.

So we won’t care if Santa brings
Us no gifts in his sack.
Cos all we want for Christmas is
To have our ten points back!

11/12/23
Denys E. W. Jones

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Points Deduction

You’ve taken ten points off us,
But we are not dismayed.
There’s plenty more still up for grabs,
Loads matches to be played.

Of ten points you have stripped us,
But we’re not mice, we’re men.
So we’ll just roll our sleeves up,
And win them back again.

You’ve really raised our hackles,
We feel like we’re at war.
So week by week and match by match
Those points back we shall claw.

We’ll fight them on the beaches,
Revive the Dunkirk Spirit.
Because this heavy sanction,
We surely do not merit.

We’re circling our wagons,
Our backs are to the wall.
We do not seek a quick fix,
We’re in for the long haul.

Our flag is not at half-mast,
It flutters high and proud.
For we are not downhearted,
We’re bloodied but unbowed.

You want to relegate us,
But we shall not surrender.
Our heads are above water,
We are not going under.

We’ll fight for every loose ball,
We’ll chase every lost cause.
We’ll keep it tight and nick one,
We shall not let you score.

Our Home Ground is a fortress,
Away we’ve strong support.
So up and down the country,
You’ll hear the Toffee roar!

We’ve no friends in high places,
No saints in Paradise.
It seems nobody likes us,
Cos we’re not very nice.

But we’re a Band of Brothers,
We are a Happy Few.
If we all stick together,
These dark times we’ll get through.

And when this Season’s over,
We’ll still be there, no fear.
We’ll not be in the Drop Zone,
Nay, we’ll be ten points clear!

19/11/23
Denys E. W. Jones

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Three Teams Worse Than Us

The Table don’t look healthy,
We’ve really messed things up.
But we’re not worried in the least,
There’s three teams worse than us …

I popped into the barber’s,
To get my long hair clipped.
The owner is a Koppite,
He likes to takes the Mick.

He said “Oh, hi there Bluenose,
For you the game is up.”
I countered “Not so fast there, mate,
There’s three teams worse than us.”

I hopped into a taxi,
And yelled “Follow that car!”
The cabbie said “Hey, ‘Tonian,
Your Toffees won’t get far.”

I said “Just drive your motor,
And keep your mouth tight shut.
We’re not in any danger,
There’s three teams worse than us.”

Now I won’t say which teams these are,
I don’t want to tempt Fate.
But there must be three sides out there
Whose record is not great.

Three Teams who cannot pass the ball,
Three with wobbly back four.
Three teams who’ve banged in fewer goals,
Three teams who’ve let in more.

We’re not one teeny bit concerned,
We do not fret or fuss.
We’re quite laid back, chilled out, relaxed,
There’s three teams worse than us.

But just suppose we’ve got it wrong,
There is no Threesome such.
Then we too will have to agree,
The game is truly up!

30/10/23
Denys E. W. Jones

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Basement Blues

I woke up this mornin’.
Turned on my TV.
Bad nooz was comin’
From the Premier League.
They read out the rankings,
OMG, what a fright.
Cos right down there at the bottom were…
My beloved Blue and Whites!

Yeah, we’re stuck down in the Basement,
Not a single team below.
When you’re anchored to the bottom,
Up’s the only way to go.

We’re blunt in attack.
The midfield’s a mess.
Our keeper’s erratic.
We leak in defence.
Our Gaffer’s a dino –
No tactical nous.
He kept us up last Season,
But a lot now want him out.

Cos we’re deep down in the Basement,
Only way to head is up.
But how on earth we gonna do that,
When we’ve been jilt’ by Lady Luck?

I went to my GP –
Prescribed me some pills.
Said “Take these twice daily,
They’ll cure all your ills…”
Did as I was told,
But it weren’t no use.
What good is any tablet,
When you’ve got the Basement Blues?

If you’re stuck down in the Basement,
There can only be one fix –
That’s to get out of the Basement,
Get out there double-quick!

They say the darkest hour
Comes just before dawn.
I ain’t seen it so dark
Since the day I was born.
“Dark before dawn”?
Hope that sayin’ is true.
If not, we’ll keep on singin’
Them mean ol’ Basement Blues…

4/9/2023
Denys E. W. Jones

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Fever

They’ll never know how much we love ’em.
Never know how much we care.
But when they step out on the Hallowed Turf,
We get a feeling that’s beyond compare.

They give us Fever, in the p.m.,
Fever under bright floodlights.
Mild Fever in Pink or Yellow,
High Fever in Blue and White.

Listen all you Koppites,
Hear these words we have to say:
We don’t really care about your Silverware,
Cos next year a Trophy’s coming our way!

Yes, we’ve seen it, in the tea leaves,
Tarot cards and crystal balls.
Trophy, when next May comes,
Or might as well throw in the towel.

Sun shines bright in morning,
Stars shine clear at night.
Our eyes lit up when we won the Cup,
Just a shame it was in Ninety-Five!

It gave us Fever, down at Wembley,
Fever up on Merseyside,
Fever the whole world o’er,
As Evertonians glowed with pride.

Pin your ears back now, Nick Hornby,
We have read your Fever Pitch –
Nice insights on the Game we love,
But the Arsenal we don’t really dig…

Don’t give us Fever, at the Library,
Nor up here at Goodison.
Fever? Oh, forget it,
There’s really nothing to be done.

Listen all you fans of Citeh,
Tottenham, Chelsea and Man U,
A Grand Old Team’s set for a re-launch,
So look out, cos we’re a-comin’ for you!

We’ll give ya Fever, when we press you.
Fever when we keep it tight.
Fever when we score that…
Winning goal in Fergie Time!

6/8/23
Denys E. W. Jones

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Lateling Laaland

The Toffees have unearthed a Diamond,
Playing in the Swedish League.
“Or maybe the Norwegian one?”
“No, Danish, I believe.”

He’s built like that proverbial House
That’s made of solid brick.
A man for sure, he ain’t no mouse,
He’s champing at the bit.

He cost us only Sixty Grand,
Just like our Stalwart, Seamus.
We’re telling DCL he’s banned,
Well really, can you blame us?

You’ve not yet heard of Laaland?
You will, before too long.
In August New Campaign kicks off,
And he’ll be bang on song!

He’s six foot seven inches tall,
He weighs two hundred pounds.
He’s gonna get us goals galore,
Our dreams now know no bounds!

2/7/23
Denys E. W.Jones

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I Just Can’t Leave That Team Alone!

Until thirteen, disliked Footee!
Perhaps because I played so bad.
Other sports too, the Egg ‘n’ Spoon,
Or weird game played with ball and bat…

Came Pubertee, what did I see?
A bunch of blokes chasing a ball…
‘Most overnight, I saw the Light,
And was converted like Saint Paul!

Became a Fan, not yet a Man,
But still no longer wholly Boy…
Embraced the Game, one Choice remained,
Among all Teams, which to support?

Racked hard my brains, but made no gains,
Trying to sort wheat from the chaff.
So many Strips, so many hues,
Who to root for? I had no clue!

Good pal had I, named Thomson Si,
Who hailed from somewhere up North-West…
From Merseyside, to be precise,
He said: “The TOFFEES are the Best!”

COYB! or Grand Old Team,
He’d sing or chant with so much zest.
Gave me some booze, to get me sloshed,
By then my brain was fully washed!

And one more thing – me Gran, darling,
Grew up in Bootle, Merseyside.
Three Bros had she, all Toffs-Crazee,
So I plumped for the Mersey’s Pride!

Dai D in goal, Big Bob up front,
And in the dugout Bingham Bill.
Shirts Royal Blue, Shorts Persil White,
What could I do? Love at first sight!

Time its course ran…Boy morphed to Man,
But EVERTON have never gone!
Seen Ups ‘n’ Downs, Swings, Roundabouts,
I just can’t leave that Team alone!

Wilson or Heath, then Mrs T,
John Major, Blair or Gordon Brown.
Flyin’ up high, or steep nose-dives,
Ain’t never left that Team alone!

We’ve been up Top, won League and Cup,
And, natch’, have flirted with The Drop.
Through thick ‘n’ thin, I’ve stuck with them,
Have always loved The Toffeemen!

Now here I am, Six Decade Man,
Standing almost at Death’s threshold.
Once more bellow “NSNO”!
Won’t never leave that Team alone…

29/5/23
Denys E. W. Jones

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