A Blinding New Sport.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Sat watching a match
In the club, over drinks, with the chaps
I listened avidly to what they had to say…
About a blinding new sport
Currently the talk
Of every couch potato, lives round our way.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Judging by what the chaps said
Heart, lungs, pulse rate, pasty white legs
Commence pumping like they did as a kid
When one harboured a dream
Of playing for ones chosen team
Especially if dream leaned toward Stamford Bridge.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Well there’s nisht wrong with dreams
This blinding new phenomenon it seems
Ain’t aiming to see your hopes dashed
It’s about getting out with your mates
Of an evening on The Churchill Gardens Estate
and simply playing a game…for the craic.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 All you need is a pitch
A bunch of 50 plus stiffs
In put politely…not too bad a nick
Who knows? It may well get you fit
Enough to at least pull on your moth-eaten kit
In itself, a form of exercise isn’t it?

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Oops…I’m after going on, on and on
About this blinding new phenomenon?
Without getting down to the nitty gritty…its goal?
The games called Walking Football*
Which kinda clearly says it all
It’s that healthy, tis like going out for…a stroll.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 Thursday sessions, of an hour, are free
Commence at six-thirty
Retiring to The Club, for a few post-match medicinal light ales
Where it seems somewhat apt,
Hearing fine specimens of man-hood…and Pimlico chaps
Fondly referred to – by mates – as our own estates…Chippendales!

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Peace.

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 *Free Walking Football. Thursdays 6:30 -7:30 pm. From the 11th of January for 8 weeks.
Chippendale House Football Pitch. Churchill Gardens Estate. London SW1
Add phone number and contact details.


I was asked – rather nicely recently – if I would be willing to submit a poem about Walking Football, for a local community magazine here in S.W London. A poem to order is not something I’ve done before, so here it is. The magazine will have a family flavour this month as our son – Daniel, an artist – has his blinding picture (I’m somewhat biased obviously) of the iconic Battersea Power Station in it. A picture the property developer – for said Power Station – bought at an exhibition before I could get me mitts on it! Still… Sure what harm bhoy, as me Aunties over in Cork often say.

Cheers for reading.



Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/a-blinding-new-sport/