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A Saturday Afternoon In Winter

Beth Rogers

Thursday, September 12th, 2024

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 1 Stride a littered path
Meld with pouring blue-clad crowd
Tense hope unites us.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Clanking turnstile squeeze
Concrete steps to bird’s eye view
Pie? Chips? Kit-kat? Tea?

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Tinny music plays
Hi-vis cluster at tunnel
At last! Legs burst forth!

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Expectant roaring
Ref’s hand high. Breathless hush. Shrill!
The precious first kick….

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Pass, cross, pass again
Possession lost – tackle back
Foul, free kick, ball sails….

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 Their goalie hugs it
Strong kick lofts the ball forward
Boot connects. One down.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Despair engulfs – but
Fresh hope blossoms in sad souls –
Cutting pass to wing.

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 Man hacked down. Crowd growls!
Players rage. Ref waves yellow.
Free kick short. Wasted.

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 Their cross lands sweet. Shot –
Taut muscle blocks. Phew! I love
That solid player!

10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 Tip-tap, lose ball. Sigh.
Tip-tap, back pass, tip-tap. Sigh.
Nose, bum, toes – all cold.

11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 Corner. Shirts bob up.
Strong neck fires ball. Net bulges!
I burst with rapture!

12 Leave a comment on verse 12 0 But it’s the Cup! We
Need another. Nerves jangle.
Ball scrambled over…

13 Leave a comment on verse 13 0 It is theirs. Hearts bleed.
Their fans, then whistle, taunt us.
I drift home, grieving.

Notes

Inspired by a particularly disappointing cup tie last season, this describes a cold Saturday afternoon of crushed hope – the lot of many fans of lower league teams in the early rounds of the FA Cup.

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Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/a-saturday-afternoon-in-winter/