Leave a comment on verse 2 0
No-one was the least surprised
When Dixon’s goal was equalised.
A fluent move, despatched by Quinn
Which surely set us up to win.
And so with hopeful hearts we pressed
Around the England box with zest,
Playing with such self-belief
That England could get no relief.
Then, as the final whistle neared,
There it was! The gap appeared!
And Razor Houghton, eight yards out,
With foot so sure and heart so stout,
Was all alone in front of goal,
With too much sugar in his bowl.
He had to score! Our backsides rose,
Our fists were clenched, expressions froze,
And as we waited, open-eyed,
He blazed his effort inches wide.
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We closed our eyes and grimaced for
It was our final chance to score.
And so, alas, the match was tied
And England later qualified
When one of Lineker’s late goals
Unjustly beat the gallant Poles.
And Ireland, very narrowly second,
Lost out as further glory beckoned.
Leave a comment on verse 4 0
In Stuttgart, Ray, you scaled the heights,
And gave the nation drunken nights.
And in New York, you did the same
And garnered everlasting fame.
One of the greatest players seen
To wear the famous Irish green,
You gave us rapture, gave us bliss,
But Jaysus, Ray! How did you miss?
For though so much rode on a win,
My granny would have knocked that in.