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It’s the League Cup Final surely

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Now for those of us who cling
Stubbornly to tradition
And the way things used to be
It is the League Cup Final today
Surely the distant cousin
Of the FA Cup
That once adorned the mantlepiece
Of springtime’s earliest blossom
Next to that photo of Uncle George
Who fought for his country
And the goblet of history
Where the brandy of his youth
Longed for peace
And so the League Cup was born
All those years later
Alan Hardaker’s brainchild
On the verge of the Sixties
Revolution of fashion and
The Fab Four
When paperback writers became
Newspaper readers
Aston Villa, the first recipients
Of the League Cup trophy
Back page headline Roy of the
Rovers heroes
A claret and blue procession
Of League Cup yesteryear
Battle hardened warriors
Rotherham, remarkably so
Then Rochdale on the second
Birthday of the League Cup
Who saw that one coming?
Beaten by the Norfolk folk
Of Norwich in the Final
Rochdale synonymous with Gracie
Fields scattered with notable
Aspidistras in the land
And homegrown morals and values
But this afternoon it’s
The Carabao Cup Final
A Cup Final sponsored by
Thai energy drinks
By the grasping hands of commerce
Or is this simply progress?
Last night Newcastle United
Launched a full scale takeover
Of Trafalgar Square
A vast black and white garden
The Toon gathering on London
Fountains and lions
West End of London pilgrims
From the land of Geordie
Of bubbly effervescence
Newcastle first League Cup Final
Since their last in 1974
When Manchester United their
Opponents today
Wore the light and blue
Of their noisy neighbours
City, playground rivals
Bellowing at the top of their voices
How will we forget
That astonishing bicycle kick
Or scissor kick goal?
Denis Tueart who impersonated
The histrionic acrobatics
Of City’s dashing dexterity
A goal to treasure
Savour and salivate on
Their tips of their tongues
Then rolled around their mouths
And then richly celebrated
Newcastle though downbeat
Despairing, losers again
But not today for Newcastle
Believe in the Eddie Howe
Philosophy bought into
Quite happily with millions
Of Saudi money
This is their day for
Holding trophies aloft
On Wembley’s fair and pristine
Acres
Underneath the Arches
But sadly not a sign
Of Flanagan and Allen
To amuse the black and white
Clientele
Just a Geordie party of all parties
Manchester United beware
Of the Red Devils
Fiendish in the extreme
Hungry for first hints
Of Old Trafford resurrection
Be on your guard Wembley

Notes

My take on today’s Carabao Cup Final.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/its-the-league-cup-final-surely/