Football Poets

Sean Dyche Limerick

An out of work Gaffer named Sean,
Heard his phone ringing early one morn.
He accepted a job at a basket case Club,
Then wished he had never been born.

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Sean D’s Blue and White Army

They said we were ungrateful,
When we sacked Allardyce.
And now we’ve fired Frank Lampard –
We really are not nice.

But football’s about winning,
We’re hungry for success,
So poor old Frankie had to go,
He’d got us in this mess.

Nil Satis Nisi Optimum,
We’re serious, don’t laugh.
The Best only is good enough,
We don’t do things by halves.

Once more we’ve a new Gaffer,
Let’s see how things work out.
Our prospects are not rosy,
But we’re in with a shout.

There’s lots of matches left to play,
There’s points there to be won.
The Season’s not yet over,
Fat Lady’s still not sung.

We’re Sean D’s ragtag army,
We’re the Uk’s laughing stock.
And if you’ve got some cash to splash around,
Come buy one of our crocks!

30/1/23
Denys E. W. Jones

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Joint Bottom

Where are we?
Joint Bottom!
Who we with?
With Soton.
Where are we?
Joint Bottom.
Rip it up, start over again.

Past glories?
Forgotten!
Finances?
They’re rotten.
Where are we?
Joint Bottom.
Knock it down and build it again.

Players made?
Of cotton!
Should we sell?
Lock, stock ‘n’…
What’s the snag?
Who’d want ’em?
Kick ’em out, bring in some new men!

Everton?
Sick of ’em!
Problem is…
Still love ’em.
Even though Joint Bottom.
Some day we’ll be up top again!

23/1/23
Denys E. W. Jones

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TGTGD

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At the wrong end of the Table,
Cos to win we are not able,
But we’re too good to go down.

Here we sit acrest a slump,
Yet we’re not down in the dumps.
No way, not on your Nelly,
There’s still fire in our belly,
Cos we’re too great to go down.

We’ve been beaten, coshed and slaughtered,
We are floundering in deep water,
But we’re not going to drown.
No no, not on your life,
Though some think we can’t survive,
We’re just too boss to go down.

Now however hard we try,
The grim truth we can’t deny:
That we’re in a fix and needing a quick fix.
Yet though some say we are toast,
We shall not give up the ghost,
Cos we’re too big,
Much much too big to go down.

4/9/22
Denys E. W. Jones

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Stake

Cazoo and the Toffees agreed to part.
“Great!” I thought, “We can make a fresh start.”
But this new Sponsor deal
Is a Stake through my heart.

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Phew!

End of a stress-laden Season.
Vital points needed for safety secured.
Each to his own –
Relegation for some, but no Drop for us.
Too good, too big, too great to go down.
Onwards and upwards.
Nil Satis Nisi Optimum.

20/5/22
Denys E. W. Jones

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Where There’s Life There’s Hope

We’re not very consistent,
We win, we lose, we draw.
The only thing that’s certain is
We’re never true to form.

The other night at Turf Moor,
We somehow lost three-two.
Yet next home game at Goodison,
Contrived to beat Man U!

We’re like some punch-drunk boxer,
Knocked back against the ropes,
The Drop is a real prospect,
Survival a slim hope.

No-one can tell what lies ahead,
Not even Nostradamus.
The only thing that can be said is:
“Dum spiramus speramus.”

10/4/22
Denys E. W. Jones

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Frankie Lampard’s Blue and White Army

We’re good at sacking gaffers,
We are not very nice.
Just ask Martinez, Silva,
Ron Koeman, Allardyce.

And then there’s that Benitez,
The latest casualtee.
But he was just one big mistake,
For him no tears we’ll weep.

A new man’s in the hotseat,
His name is Lampard Frank.
He did quite well at Derby,
From Chelsea got the sack.

But we’re sure he’s the right choice,
We bid him welcome warm.
He’ll set our ship on even keel,
And steer us through the storm.

Nil Satis Nisi Optimum?
No problem for this guy.
He got A Star in Latin,
He knows that we aim high.

He could have gone to Hollywood,
He’s come to Merseyside.
So forza Frankie, don’t relax,
Work hard, arrest our slide.

31/1/22
Denys E. W. Jones

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Rafa – sacked and not backed.

Oh no
Not again
Rafa sacked
And never
Backed
Everton,
The club
Once known
As the Bank
Of England
Give their
Marching orders
To the man
Who used to
Be, Rafa, the
Gentleman with
The bank
Manager aura
But surely not
From Santander
Rafa, immaculately
Dressed in formal
Waistcoat
But not ready
For his customers
Not now given
The opportunity
For yet more
Emotional investments
Bankrupt of support
Robbed of capital
Since Everton are
Now back at
The drawing board
Square one
After early blossom
Time in the autumn
Of the season
Now Rafa Benitez
Victim of circumstances
Where once Howard
Kendall, Joe Royle,
Gordon Lee and the
Stern and solemn
Countenance of fear
Drained, but not
Without care
Then Harry Catterick
Achieved the impossible
Sadly though
Never reacting to
League Championships
From many moons
Ago, so the
Toffees had to chew
On something much
Sweeter
When Harvey, Ball
And Kendall were
Pulling strings of
The blue symphony
Of life and a
Cabaret of colour
And virile vitality
But Rafa has left
Via the tradesman’s
Entrance where once
Trod Carlo Ancelotti
Goodison livid, furious
Revolting, uproar
From the other
Side of Merseyside
Where noisy neighbours
Liverpool are still strutting,
Flouncing, serial winners
Of the Premier League
And the old First Division,
Everton were the team
Who might have been
Even if Rafa thought
He could be the
Spanish revolutionary
Who privately believed
He could turn blue
To golden moments
In the sun
Victorious again
But alas not.
So where do
The Goodison
Park residents
Association
Go from here
Do they appoint
Some legendary
Name from the past
To salvage their
Season
Or simply go
Around in
In ever- increasing
Circles taking
Consolation in Harry
Catterick or Howard
Kendall for they were
Witnesses to the
Sparking jewellery
Of cups and trophies
But Everton are in
Muddied waters
Sliding down tables
Of greasy, oily
Decline, surely
Not relegation
It’s unheard of
In the charismatic
Corridors of
Goodison where
Once Bracewell,
Sheedy and Reid
Waved the baton
And led the band
With decorative
Flourishes and
Goals galore
Sadly Everton
Are now stilled,
Silenced, wandering
Around in trances
Of grey
Rafa the first
To join
The managerial
Sacking race
Rafa Benitez
We wish him
Well
But you were
Just the latest
Who never quite
Met the criteria
Of the Premier
League standard
That demanded
Much more
Than you were
Ever capable of
Farewell Rafa
But we’ll see you
Again, sooner
Rather than later
Surely

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The BBC hoped for an Upset

The BBC hoped for an upset,
They showed the match live on TV.
But when Kevin Friend blew for full-time,
The losers were HCFC.

The Tigers they sure made a bright start,
They scored after forty-five secs.
But Everton were not downhearted,
Demarai Gray soon found the Net.

Now Anthony Gordon’s a livewire,
He’s one of our favourite sons.
He linked up just perfect with Kenny,
To let Gomes make it two-one.

The Tigers refused to surrender,
They fought back with tooth and with claw.
Roared on by their raucous supporters,
Before long they’d levelled the score.

No replay, so extra time needed,
We feared it might go to Spot-kicks.
But then came a beauty from Townsend,
Once more our Andros did the trick.

Some Toffee fans can’t stand Benitez,
They’re hoping that he’ll get the sack.
But he’s got us into the fourth round,
So why don’t we get off his back?

Some say in the next tie we’ll crash out,
Some say that we’re bound for Wemblee.
But one thing we Bluenoses all know:
It’s high time we won a Trophee.

So, bring back, bring back,
Bring back that Cup from Wemblee, Wemblee.
Bring back, bring back,
Oh, bring back that Pot to GP!

10/1/22
Denys E. W. Jones

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