Early Warning. Sunday Morning…

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0Police Leave Cancelled For Final o’ Euro-nations“,
Wary Britalians body-swerve their local Trat
Packed trains lumber in to Central London stations
Soused sardines, stagger-out, streaming to…the match.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 A drunken Herbert, stood trying to hail a sherbet
Can’t grasp his being ignored at early dawn,
Taxi!, I wanna meet da chaps at Oxford Circus”,
Midst a very public technicolour West-End yawn.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Charing Cross Road deemed off-limits
An anti-Boris Johnson protest march, perhaps?
Nah Kev, there’s over eight hours to kick-off innit
They’re here, to get in the mood to watch…the match

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Leicester Square, total mayhem
Bottles, cans, anything being thrown
Ah, now I get it, this is what they meant…
In that old chestnut, “Football’s coming home”.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Jewish fella, travelling down on the London tube
Looked absolutely terrified for his life
Surrounded, filmed being verbally abused?
By anti-Semites, sporting Ingaland shirts, the other night.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 We’ve sherbet’s trashed, buses smashed
Members of The Met under serious attack
By moronic Ingaland fans, and let’s face facts
Most weren’t kids on a jolly, after…the match.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Danish family, post a gutting semi-final
Travelling home from the game by bus
Threatened by a Neanderthal bunch a tribal’s
and we wonder why, no-one in Europe takes to us?

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 Still, we’re in the final, nothing else matters?
Let’s all seize the day, partake in the nations fun?
I don’t wish to rip our on-field achievements in to tatters
But our troubles above are a result (sic) of when…we’ve won?

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 Gareth Southgate being hailed as an Uber mensch
He’s up for a knight-hood (if we win today) and rightly so
Yet what happens, say we get beat, and as a consequence
Of obnoxious partisans, we’re banned from appearing at…The Show?

10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 I don’t expect this downer of a poem to be published, being realistic,
In fact, I don’t give a flying fluff either way?
Though warned earlier, “Avoid Up West, they’re going ballistic”,
On the day of a match?! Suggests I best take heed what family say.

11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 Anyway. Enjoy the game, may the best team win. Oh, I hope rain stops affray!

12 Leave a comment on verse 12 0



Called by a family member (a London cab-diver), earlier today, this poem kind of composed itself, as they say. After he (the cab-diver) informed me, some West-End streets had been blocked off, since dawn, England punters congregating outside pubs since opening time, (when is that nowadays?) looked for the most part three sheets to the wind already, seven/eight hours prior to kick-off. He suggested I stay indoors, which I’m doing, on his good advice, and went on to say cab-drivers are calling/texting each other to…to get the hell out of London’s West-End…sharpish, and that he heard of dinner bookings, in Italian restaurants, for this evening, being cancelled, by patrons worried about about the final out-come to this match. The poem does not apply to the majority of England fans I hasten to add.

A.N. Trat. Trattoria. Britalians. Italian descendants, born here. Sherbet (Dab). Rhyming slang for cab. The Show. The World Cup.


Stay sage. Bode well.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/early-warning-sunday-morning/