Poems tagged ‘Wellness’
Analeptic Athletic FC
Football has always interjected into my life:
intervened at my lowest points
in reparative fashion, putting a smile on my face
and mapped a path, back to the rat-race;
It has capped my highest highs
reminding me that they don’t last
that the next match
or the next season
will bring another set of struggles
another gaggle of glitches….
but always
a sentient solution is summoned….
at any succession of mud-splattered pitches!
Season 2019/2020 – Missing Presumed Lost
Days stretched into weeks
No football, at all
Football is just a game, say those who don’t get it
To us, it’s all we’ve ever known
the centre of everything we’ve planned
Friendlies, cup, home and away,
Life on the calender was H A AHA HAA – not laughing any more
it’s all H H H H H H H H H home home home
no win situation, no draw
just loss (no change there then Norwich City fans)
Stay home – easy when we’ve got live football on TV – but now?
It’s a contact sport, being a football fan
We know each other, every child, woman and man
Some fans, we know by name
Others are ‘the man on the end of the row’ (yeah, catchy)
or the bloke who sits behind Peter
but now they’re all absent friends
The people you used to work with
The one you talk Only Connect with
Old neighbours you sometimes bump into
Not-quite-strangers give you a nod, or a wave
Others you look out for, to give them space to cross your path
With their age, their crutches or frame
It’s football – of course they still came
The one with a glowering, granite face who taunts the ref
But when we score it’s like dawn breaking
Beaming, he hugs two rows, but, first, his dad
People from down our road
fellow sardines on the 1.15pm train
Those we went to school with
the ones who share our load
Good to see you, all right mate
How’s the missus, take care
People no longer here, in this life
Still always in the crowd
Yeah, course we’re all hooligans to some
But there’s only love here, never hate
People of all shirts, giving banter, taking bait
It’s all been snatched away till we don’t know when
Who knows what next, some we’ll never see again
Its changed us for ever, this vicious virus
Our lives have changed, and yeah it is only football, but I miss it
To end, I’m mangling words from Billy Ray Cyrus
It broke my heart, my achy-breaky heart
And I just think you fans will understand.
Un-wanted hat-trick
We see our boys
out on the pitch
giving their all
chasing the oppo
chasing the ball
we see our players
skillful and wilful
at the top of their game
but we see them having a ‘mare
and we mete out the blame
we see them on the telly
we see them being papp’d
we see them all too easily
but how about when they’re trapped?…..
an Irish chat show coup…
John Walters welcomed like a hero
post retirement, announcing
“my Achilles heel, was literally,
my Achilles heel”
“So, how do you feel?”
the presenter poses
and one supposes
we’ll hear the usual
footy cant
a cache of clichés
coaching badges, blah
punditry, blah
golfing, blah
a cushy life, yadda yadda
but we were un-prepared
for the baring of the soul
no care for Euro qualification
or the scoring of a goal
for John swerved
from “missing the boys, and the noise
from the stands”
weaving to
a “triple whammy”
a heartfelt admission
from an 11yr old boy, still missing his mammy
and I don’t have his permission
to present this commission
but as a fan
hearing the true story, the back story, the black story
the real behind the reel
“so how do you feel?”
and he draws us in
to the depths that he plumbed
loss after loss after loss
not, as in games or matches
but the tragedy of losing life
of family dispatches
and losing health
and sod the Premier wealth
for it brought no solace
he welled
he blanked
he tanked
he “corpsed”
but he showed us a way
to the man behind the “stoic star”
we were no longer
looking in from afar
but sobbing with him
approving of his disapproving
of the way he tried to be –
footballer first
wounded human second
suppressing the grief
of just days before
by training hard and pushing more
being “a man”
and taking it on the chin
of not wanting to break “the taboo”
of hardy men
and the barriers erected
against sensitivity
and the proclivity
to not share, to keep hidden
any susceptibility
that emotion might obscure
the single minded view
of winning at all costs
of winning ugly
and if not winning, then not losing
not losing points
not losing face
not losing your place
on the team…
no-one would deem
that this strong man fronted, for personal gain
for this portrait of pain
of a man, bowed by anguish
by despair, was all too obvious
showing us a man incapable of unburdening
at say, Burnden Park
but here he did
he swallowed hard
he caught his breath
he forced himself, he willed himself
to unload, to share
to show that it’s good to talk
and that we should never walk
Alone.
Spoken like a true Scouse
Of proud Irish Heritage.
About This Site
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
joe morris
17th November 2024
Crispin Thomas
17th November 2024
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
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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