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A goal like a golden egg

Sid Sherwin

Sunday, June 6th, 2010

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 If there is poetry in football
Then it is found in those strange men
Who give their names
To the prayers of playground dreams
And who step out into that green theatre
To chase each other about
In vigorous formations and primary colours,
Unafraid of showing us their knees.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 But look harder,
See past the badges
And beyond the branded names of these heroes,
And there is poetry:

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 In the defeated eyes of Sol Campbell
In which is writ the whole concept of football
As an existential trap,
As if he is always one bad tackle away
From retreating to the shed at the end of his garden
To examine his face in a bucket of cold water
Until angels blow trumpets to raze the walls.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 And there is poetry:
In the conditioning of Dimitar Berbatov’s
Hair and soul,
Who has only fallen sideways into this dimension
And harbours vague half memories
Of a land where he could atone
For his failed accountancy business
By drifting on oiled castors
Through flailing tacklers
To score goal after goal
With a simple flourish of either leg.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 And there is poetry:
In Nicolas Anelka
Who clearly,
At all times,
Carries a beautiful goal inside him,
A golden egg of rare, divine beauty,
Which he would like to share with everyone
But only at the exact right moment,
A moment of total,
Thirty-thousand open mouthed adulation,
And until he senses that moment to be close,
To be upon him like the breath of God,
He will keep his goal to himself
(For no one likes to be laughed at, do they?)

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 As for the rest,
Well, football is just kicking a ball,
And poetry is just words on a page.

© Sid Sherwin, 06.06.10

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/a-goal-like-a-golden-egg/