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Poems tagged ‘Local Football’

Touchline Shouting

Simon Icke

Tuesday, August 31st, 2021

Touchline shouting, that’s all I ever hear,
I’m so confused and filled with fear.
I’m only ten years old and football should be fun,
But with all this noise I don’t know which way to run.
“Get back in defence!” my manager shouts.
Dad shouts, “Get up front and deal with these louts!”
Loud mouth supporter, who knows all the rules.
(He takes the rest of us for fools)
Shouts, “What are you doing lad? Your head’s in a spin!”
Is it any surprise, with all this din?

I am only a boy, so why do you all try to destroy, what I’d love to enjoy?

FOOTBALL SHOULD BE FUN!

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© Simon Icke

 

1 Comment »

Howay the lad

Greg Freeman

Monday, February 8th, 2021

It may be just a pre-season friendly,
he’s the wrong side of thirty; I still
get the same joy watching him play.
Diehard tackles, rampaging forward,
exhorting teammates, lusting for goals.

I’m double his age, not in his league.
At half-time he’s subbed for a while.
Jack says at thirty-two he’s lost some pace,
matters more at centre-back
than in midfield: You just need stamina there.

A year ago he moved up here,
outsider unsure of getting
in the local team. A year on
he’s given teaching the red card,
exhausted by rule changes,

but still chosen by the manager.
I love the touchline accents,
the odd howay, lad. Afterwards
the players take down the goalposts
and, like fishermen, gather in the nets.

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Source: http://footballpoets.org/news/poem-tags/local-football/