Football Poets

Footballers

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 As the seasons come then race away
And hopes all turned to dust
Fortunes made, and fortunes spent
Of titles won, and lost
What price this love this fickle dream
Which binds with such a bond
That turns us all defenceless fools
And smitten everyone

¶ 2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 What other love could hold so fast
And cause such joy despair
What other love could hope to last
What other love would dare?
Are we so weak we can’t deny
Have we so little say?
To drive this passion from our hearts
Like night steals off with day

¶ 3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Not I for moments Dalglish gleaned
For goals that Rushie cleaved
And for the wit of Shankly’s heart
My own would still receive
For the Anfield Iron who lived the dream
And gave us all a glimpse
Of heaven come back down to earth
Those times I wouldn’t have missed

¶ 4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 For Cyrille Regis whose dignity
Could not be cast in stone
His presence and his glory
Served best in blood and bone
The magic of the Magyars
Their football blew the Lions away
No better men on Wembley’s turf
Played with passion and with grace

¶ 5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 There’s a hero down at Highbury
His name is Charlie George
The darling of the North Bank Crowd
His boots could charm the ball
The green and white of Celtic
The pride of 1967
Gave Jock Stein immortality
And took the Bhoys to heaven

¶ 6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 The technicolour spectacle
That was the 70 World Cup
The samba boys served us a treat
And shook the whole world up
The treble for Joe Fagan in 84
We danced with joy around the stars
But then the pain and shame of Heysel
Broke this great man’s humble heart

¶ 7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 The Hand of Scopa Maradona
The perfect turn of Johann Cruyff
The languid beauty of Platini
No resentful devil could destroy
The wisdom of Matt Busby
The spells of Georgie Best
The beauty of Eusebio
The earth was truly blessed

¶ 8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 The poise of Danny Blanchflower
The goals of Just Fontaine
The lightning of Rose Reilly
She lit up the women’s game
The might that was Di Stefano
The prose of Cantona
The world that sits at Messi’s feet
The thumping BOOM of Klopp’s scouse heart

¶ 9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 The feats of Stanley Matthews
The wizard of the wing
The majesty of Tom Finney
By God his boots could sing
The demons of Paul Gascoigne
Could not put out his fire
And the angel that was Rossi
Paid the devil back his lies

¶ 10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 There was a man he played for Liverpool
Billy Liddell is his name
The Angels gave him golden wings
And he used them wisely every game
On heavens park he’s playing now
First name when God picks His team
Blowing like a hurricane
Through every Redman’s dream

¶ 11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 The knives of Goicoechea
Disguised as football boots
The Men in White of Anfield
Best forgotten Spice Boys Wembley suits
The loss of Duncan Edwards
That save of Gordon Banks
The shackled boots of Baggio
Condemned to firing blanks

¶ 12 Leave a comment on verse 12 0 The glory of the Champions League
The pitch of bedroom floors
The Sunday players with their dreams
Of goals they will never score
The miracles of Pele
Gave vision to the blind
Whilst the long runs of Garrincha
Left all the rest behind

¶ 13 Leave a comment on verse 13 0 The chips of Liam Brady
The jinks of Alan Ball
The madness that pursues all Lears
Football has it all
The shining light that was Puskas
Showed all others the way
With such beautiful football
That only way he could play

¶ 14 Leave a comment on verse 14 0 The selfless heart of Walter Tull
A legend whose story must be told
Many more may match his skill
But none can match his brave soul
The treble for Utd
Put their watching ghosts to rest
“Bloody football” on that balmy night
A wild Mancunian fest

¶ 15 Leave a comment on verse 15 0 The trials of Tony Adams
Showed the world his honesty
He beat the battle of the booze
And returned with dignity
The cool of Kaiser Beckenbauer
The cannon that was Gerd
The goals that thundered from his boots
The whole of football heard

¶ 16 Leave a comment on verse 16 0 Bob Paisley in his flat cap
Desired no other crown
The first to win 3 Euro Cups
His replacement still not found
The black and white of Newcastle
With Wor Jackie as their King
And the goals of Alan Shearer
Gave the Toon new songs to sing

¶ 17 Leave a comment on verse 17 0 The samba toes of Zico
The head of Billy Dean
The faith of every football fan
Following their team
All Scousers know the glory
That was that night in Rome
We wiped away our Wembley tears
And brought auld Big Ears home

¶ 18 Leave a comment on verse 18 0 The boots of Zinedine Zidane
Made history for the French
And proved at once beyond all doubt
That Le Foot is mightier than Le Pen
The Elvis hips of Roger Milla
The strength and power of Paul Scholes
The style of Raul and Luis Figo
A lesson in football to behold

¶ 19 Leave a comment on verse 19 0 The magic boots of little Zola
When he wore them he walked tall
The precision of Roberto Carlos
When he thundered round those walls
There’s the grace of Edgar Davids
The football pitch his stage
The boyish hearts of walking footballers
Envied by those half their age

¶ 20 Leave a comment on verse 20 0 Rivaldo Ronaldo & Ronaldhino
Lived out their wildest dreams
Left the World Cup hopes of Germany
Ripped at the seams
Viera Henry and Pires
Like three football musketeers
Their silky skills brought teams to their knees
But with football ringing in their ears

¶ 21 Leave a comment on verse 21 0 Those famous saves of Chilavert
The magician’s tricks of Ademir
The snapping boots of Rattin
Let you know that he was near
King Kenny going for The Double Double
The Scouse Brazilians of 88
But by then my father long since died and words to say
I’d already left too late

¶ 22 Leave a comment on verse 22 0 From Turf Moor down to Deepdale
The Bridge and White Hart Lane
From the Bernebeu to backyard walls
The dreams are all the same
And of all those dreams we ever dream
We share that special one
To don the colours pull on the shirt
And be their chosen one

¶ 23 Leave a comment on verse 23 0 So hearts may well be broken
A thousand times and more
Life will still be blessed or cursed
On that final score
The sadness of Hillsborough
The injustice that remains
96 innocent souls lost that day
Football will never be the same

¶ 24 Leave a comment on verse 24 0 There are children born to football
And their hearts their clubs will claim
For they’re the symbol of the passion
And the future of this Beautiful Game.