Football Poets

Beaten by Klopp’s show boaters

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 We suspected as much
Claret and blue
Beaten by Merseyside
Show boaters again
This time at the London Stadium
Grandstanding gadabouts
Liverpool nudge open creaking door
Back into Europe
But not into the once
Hardy perennial garden
Of the Champions League
Bright and beautiful
Floral display
Last night the Hammers
Outclassed, hung out to dry
So the jaunty stroll
Along the Bournemouth promenades
With carnival floats of goals
At the Vitality
Left the Cherries in sour
Moods of reflection
Trembling trepidation
Fear not perhaps since
The Hammers are brothers
In arms near the bottom
Of the Premier League
Kindred spirits near
Relegation trapdoors
Anguish in April
Plastered across their
Weather beaten, haggard faces
Last night claret and blue
Rinsed and washed
Dry cleaned, polished off
With embarrassing ease
By Klopp’s band of
Champagne football
Fizzing across the spring
Green acres of the East End
Passes spun and woven together
In delightful spider’s webs
Football’s groves of academia
Where classical lessons are taught
In lands of enchantment
Last night we knew Mo Salah,
Jordan Henderson, Virgil Van Dijk,
Fabinho, Joel Matip would pool their
Well endowed resources
With tools of gold, silver
And bronze
Pot shot from distance
Lucas Pacqueta gave something
For West Ham to chew on
Briefly with a shot and goal
From the hip
Before Liverpool surged back
With Mersey waves of familiarity
The genetic classes of beauty
And brilliance
Once sung from the Kop
Still do so, to the same
Themes of Shanks, Bob Paisley,
Joe Fagan, Ronnie Moran
We could go on and on
Ad infinitum
The old and new currency
Handsome documents and
Scriptures from Anfield’s
Illustrious past
Where deeds and thoughts
Of Ron Yates, Ian Callaghan,
Peter Thompson, Emlyn, KK
Kevin Keegan and Tosh
Left deep masculinity
And male laddishness on
Liverpool’s breastplate
Of manliness on the doorstep
Where red carpets are always
Welcome, make yourself at home
So Liverpool puff out their cheeks
Again, breathing down the necks
Of Europe’s palatial
Hallways, Europa League
May be their own aim
Realistically
But who knows
The Premier League
Slowly winding
Towards its final
Breathless palpitations
Liverpool, still in
Bones of contention
And West Ham
Hoping and wishing
That Euro Conference
Expeditions may not be
The architects of their
Downfall,
As Brian Moore memorably intoned
It’s up for grabs
Hammers horrendous season
Still in the grip of tense
State of neurosis
Please end the season now

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