Football Poets

Get Your Book Out Ref

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 At the end of the day
There are no easy games at this level
And two-nil is a dangerous lead
When It’s a game of two halves
But goals win games
And it’s a good touch for a big man
When parking the bus
Giving a hundred and ten per cent
And it may be that we’re taking each game as it comes
One game at a time
And this game needs a goal
But it’s a funny old game
When you’re over the moon
Then sick as a parrot
In acres of space
In a six pointer
With a cultured left foot
When you know where the goal is
And hit the back of the net
With plenty of pace
When you’ve got more in your locker
But the other team just wanted it more
And even though he’s deceptively quick
A lack of inventiveness going forward is a concern
But we’re focused on the next game
A point’s a point
And we’ll take that going forward
Honours even a fair result
But if you put the trigger too soon
And are wasteful in front of goal
You’ll regret it later on
He couldn’t score through an open barn door
But it’s in his managerial DNA
This is tournament football
And there’s still all to play for
A Lovely little lollipop
We go again
Setting out their stall, early doors,
And you can’t win the title in August but you can lose it
But those type of decisions tend to even out over a season
But how will they cope with a muddy pitch in January?
But he almost hit that too well
The boy can turn on a sixpence
He came too far off his line
He was frozen to his goal line
He was rooted to his goal line
Saved by the woodwork
They think it’s all over
But it’s still squeaky bum time
At the business end of the season
And the boys done good
But didn’t get the run of the ball
Denied by the woodwork
It’s often harder to play against ten men
He’s scoring for fun
He ghosted in at the near stick
We were delighted with the result
We have to put it behind us
They didn’t turn up at the races today
It was a hard day at the office
He’s put it into the corridor of uncertainty
There are some tired legs out there
He gave the keeper the eyes
They need to leave it all on the pitch
He has the heart of a lion
He’s got a great engine
He’s a born leader
Supersub
She/he’s the complete package
She/he has the club running through his/her veins
Make the goalie work
It was only handbags
S/he can do a job at full back
It’s the group of a death
He’s opened himself up
He’s had a ‘mare
Back to square one
We were playing against 12 women/men
That was Keystone Cops defending
That was exhibition stuff
Marching orders
Taking an early bath
Took one for the team
One-way traffic
Restored parity
Over the top
We needed a strong referee
A surprise package
The complete package
A no-nonsense tackle
Old campaigner
The last man
Heads go down
Not one for the purist
They look good on paper
But the game’s played on grass
Never write the Germans off
they are a ruthlessly efficient
footballing machine
‘These players have a level of humility
That is really important.
We pride ourselves on it.’
It is the Beautiful Game
at the end of the day.
Reg Smeeton Memorial Lexicon Cup
Extra Time
Big …Huge…
Massive moment
Absolutely massive
It’ll need a worldie
And now for all three points
But he’s smuggled the ball away
Stood the ball up
Finding the channels
Running the channels
Playing between the lines
Quality
Freshening it up
He’s got to score from there
High, wide and not so handsome
Putting bodies on the line
His body shape was all wrong
It took just a bit of a bobble
This football club
He’s hardly had a touch
It’s a stonewall penalty
Sloppy defending
He knows where the goal is
You’ve got to break the lines
He’s marked him out of the game
He turned him inside out
Oh dear, that’s a hospital pass
They’re looking leggy
Your Smeetons Your Reginalds
And like an archaeologist,
The manager’s career is in ruins
Ashen faced
He’s lost half a yard of pace
He always plays to the whistle
They’ve played them off the park
They’re a tough team to break down

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