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A Game of Two Halves

Rowan Waller

Tuesday, December 26th, 2023

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Oh! That groan and satisfying clunk of the turnstile;
milling crowds of folk wrapped up in scarves and beanie hats,
catching up on this and that as if it’s been a while,
although, of course, it’s only been a fortnight since; if that…
Breath like fog that drifts in puffs from out a thousand mouths,
cups of tea and Bovril steaming, stave the winter chill;
Jonny Radcliffe standing sentry, looming to the south,
and then the Ref blows hard the whistle, piercing and shrill.
The rowdiest of fans take up their chants in boisterous voice;
the boozers drain their pints and bundle rosy from the bar,
push to crowd behind the fences – get behind the boys!
Another chance to show the non-believers who we are…
We are Oxford City! A hundred and forty-one years of history.
We’ve been huge crowd pullers… and we’ve been Cutteslowe Park-playing wanderers.
We’ve had beatific benevolent owners as well as felonious fortune squanderers…
it’s a history arc that’s had everything from high heroics to heinous hypocrisy,
but now a golden era, perhaps, – a ‘Justin Merittocracy’.
A phoenix from ashes – risen again to soar on the hopes and dreams
of those who don’t or can’t aspire to Spires; and here we are: the National League.
Milling crowds of folk wrapped up in scarves and beanie hats;
breath like fog that drifts in puffs from out a thousand mouths;
cups of tea and Bovril steaming, catching up on this and that;
and Jonny Radcliffe standing sentry, looming over our doubts…
21 points from 24 played, some might think, as we watch half-freezing…
But it’s a funny old game; it’s a game of two halves…
and there are also two halves to a season.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 #rowanthepoem

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Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/a-game-of-two-halves-4/