Poems tagged ‘Transfers’
Transfer deadline day
Transfer
Deadline day
A comfortable
Cul de sac
Nowhere to
Go. Hard to
Know why
The futility
Of it all
Premier League
Funded by Arab
sheikhs
Pots of money
Bursting with
Affluence
And yet West
Ham for their
Part are still
Searching for
Another striker
Rather like lost
Soldiers in the desert
Desperate for water,
Food and sustenance
Pleading poverty
Though
When we who observe
From afar
Know that the
Owners pockets
Are much deeper
We were told
They were loaded
But we know
All about their plausible
Excuses,
Since heads are scratched
At this bidders market
Football’s ultimate auction
Hall,
Where players are swapped
Then exchanged
Like chess pieces
Kings, bishops
Taking pawns
Then castles
Moving in
For the winning
Roll of the dice
Player signed,
Sealed and delivered
But still the
Fans gasp in
Horror at this
Music hall
Comedy
This daft
Financial
Merry go round
Where capitalism
Loses its moral
Compass
The rumours,
The alleged
Speculation,
Players from
All over the world
Hopping onto planes
To British shores
Where only complexity
Exists since fifty million
Is never enough
Perhaps the said
Player was
Never really interested
In the first place
Hold on for another
Couple of hours
And we’ll e-mail
Our building society
For an essential loan
But then said club
Insist it was never
Their intention to
Sell
Oh how frustrating,
Infuriating
Please sign anybody
Simply to appease
The disgruntled masses
Who were hoping the
new Maradona or Cruyff
May have been waiting
In the wings for your club
But it’s all about complications
And add ons, vast sums of money
Washing around in the football
Machine
The mechanism
That keeps football
Alive at all times,
The players who live
Allegedly in
Soul-less mansions
Anyway, with servants
To pander to their every
Whim
But transfer deadline ticks
Away inexorably to 11
tonight
None of the pampered
Or privileged from Milan,
Barcelona, Bayern Munich
Marseille or Napoli
Are going anywhere
Since the global
Banks of transaction
Were firmly shut
For two years
And football
Was mothballed
Skint and destitute
So your club are
Not spending a single
Penny or Euro
Just when
You thought
You’d be signing
Football’s equivalent
Of the Harlem
Globetrotters
You were simply
Delusional, it’s
Just a far
Fetched dream.
Window Shopping
When the transfer window closed how did you do?
Did you get a keeper with gloves like glue
or a stopper with the kick of a tetchy emu?
A wing-back whose clearances all miscue
or an old head who knows exactly who to pass to?
A centre-back with the close control of a clumsy gnu
or a young talent whose capture is really quite a coup?
A winger better suited to selling shampoo
or a dribbler with the skill to wriggle through?
A striker as mobile as a bronze statue,
a midfielder with the vision of ‘Blind Pew’,
or a schemer craftier than Cardinal Richelieu?
would choose / chews wood
On a glorious mid-summer’s day
when the solar-source commands us to
do-nothing-but-sit-out-and-read
and even gets us to
skip-the-tv-grunt-grunt-baseline-chaseline-at-SW19;
instead, I watch the dogged determination
of the crinkly, wrinkly-nosed pup entitled Archie
as he gnaws animatedly on numerous sticks
a demented shredding machine, but with no baler!
I switch back to the Sunday paper –
ignoring the front pages, which are covered
in choice Christening snaps, of Archie’s privileged namesake;
no, my interest is purely in the Sports Section
(too soon for any significant Tour de France news)
so it’s the footy feature that fascinates:
Lamps set to shine again at the Bridge
Pogba stirring
disappointment of 4th place for the Lionesses
and just general transfer gossip, like….
Who will switch to whom?
Who will end up with splinters on a new bench?
Who will put in wooden performances? Perhaps at Forest?
Who will be going of their own volition?
Who will be going as a makeweight?
Who’s next, for Pep to make great?
All sizzling tittle-tattle, on a sizzling day
the sun continues to perform its searing miracle
the incessant rays shutter-down the eyelids….
Archie continues to chew / coo (take your pic) (sic)
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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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Latest Poems
kevin halls
10th November 2024
joe morris
10th November 2024
Clik The Mouse
10th November 2024
Clik The Mouse
6th November 2024
Alex Saynor
6th November 2024
joe morris
29th October 2024
joe morris
17th October 2024
Denys E. W. Jones
16th October 2024
joe morris
11th October 2024
Mike Bartram
11th October 2024
Crispin’s Corner
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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