“Dreaming of the Runs”

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 It’s a gorgeous Saturday morning
I’m off down to the coast
FA Cup at Whitehawk
You know the thing I hate most…
No hope or expectation
I’m sure we’re going to lose
At least unlike distant past defeats
I won’t sink myself in booze.
The beauty of being sober
Is not thinking of a pub opening its door
Being able to potter about in charity shops
And stroll along the shore.
This morning I’m really buzzing
Heading to East Croydon on the tram
And if we lose as expected
I’m not going to give a damn!
Pundits don’t know what they’re saying
The magic of the Cup being dead
Last night I struggled to go to sleep
And this morning jumped out of bed.
Time to wheel out the cliches
It’s eleven against eleven
But if we manage to nick it
I will be in footballing heaven.
The Cup’s a great leveller
Anything can happen on the day
Maybe we can upset the bookies
Despite what the odds will say.
I’ve got butterflies in my stomach
Hope in my heart
And even though I expect to lose
Defeat will tear me apart.
Not as if it’s unexpected
We do nothing in this competition
Long gone are those distant days
When reaching the First Round Proper was my ambition.
Practically every other club has done it
Doing better than us year by year
Even lower division outfits
As we hardly ever got near.
The only time in my lifetime
Was back in ninety eight
Losing to an own goal at home to Southport
Such was the fickle hand of fate.
I’m resigned to not getting there
My dream of a Football League club away
But while we’re still in the competition
There’s an outside chance of having our day.
And that’s why I’m off to Brighton
Heading for Whitehawk today
Come on Dulwich Hamlet do the business
To my god Edgar Kail I pray.



(I wrote this on the way to our FA Cup 2nd qualifying round tie away to Whitehawk. A really tough draw, as they are third in the league above us. We always struggle in the FA Cup anyway…we lost 4-2.)

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/dreaming-of-the-runs/