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An Ode to Football When

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Sunday league was played between pints and net-
less posts by monosyllabic binsmen
managed by the Local’s former-youth-prospect
barman. When metatarsals bowed bombing
water-clogged Mire Ultramax takedowns,
leaving cross-bars quivering and strikers

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 wilted in the marsh. Studs akin to croc
teeth, ripping through pitches and shin pads. Lads
cupping their palms—blackened fingernails— scooping
mats of mud from divots in knees. Players
and the Loyals alike plucked pints from pubs
with names deserving of their royalty.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 When all were Royal and paid in piss and
gave blood for that lager-poisoned piss.

4

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/an-ode-to-football-when/