Football Poets

To FA Cup Glory

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 FA Cup first round day
Ah, tis the start of the
Meandering, winding journey
To FA Cup glory
Along the rutted paths
The tangle of the orange leaves
Chasing hectically
Darting through the hedgerows
Football at its finest local parklands
FA Cup first round day
The meat and gristle of its
Bone and sinew
Hearty feast and lunchtime
Fiesta, the FA Cup
It should have its own
National Anthem
When the supermarket
Trolley workers
Postmen and milkmen
Down their tools
The long distance lorry
Drivers dream of Manchester
City, United, Spurs, Chelsea
And Arsenal on the glamorous
Infant days of the third round
When the muck and bullets of
The first round of today are
That first corner swung
Over with deceptive ease
And we remember Hereford,
Yeovil, Sunderland in 1973
Porterfield trapping the ball
On that reliable thigh and
Leaving Leeds on Cup Final
Day with nothing but
Humiliation for tea
But today is FA Cup first round
Day. The foundation stone,
The first brick, the first layer
Of cement, where the FA Cup
was born.
Where the part timers
And the amateur
Dare with brass neck
Impudence to upset
The higher proletariat
Where Buxton FC
And Sudbury trod
On hallowed green
There was Canvey
Island, once who
Could hardly believe
That they were TV
dignitaries
Rows of terraced houses
Threaded together
Like grandma’s tea cosies
That settled like the Cup
Souvenirs that were six pence
And a shilling
And fire engines could
Be seen, cheering from afar
Still the FA Cup once again
The genesis of the season
Crank up the engines
For winter is upon us
Gloves pounding on the
Terraces. Fans clinging
Thrillingly to trees
Bobble hats at Northampton
Town, the raw chill of the first
Round of the day
The mystery of the unknown
Meat pie in one hand
Wembley on our minds
We’ll always remember this
Day for we were there once
When giant killing was the norm
And today is the day it all began
Faded history but very much now.

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