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Jumped Up, Outta The Chair…

kevin raymond

Friday, December 16th, 2022

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Colourful expletives pierced the air
After witnessing a scene said, geezer write…
Reminded of committed halcyon days
A sly dig in the ribs, a clump, affrays
Agin a whizz-kid, HP boots chalk dusted white.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Not exactly blessed with bags o’ pace
Our Dominic put his-self about the place
Pinching, tugging, pulling hair, that sort of thing
Some whizz-kid haring it down the wing
Might stumble and find our Dom atop o’ him
Making out the whizz-kid clipped him on the shin.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 I’ve seen two flying fools sent off
Plus, a stiff upper lipped, fleet footed toff
Promise when the game was done, he’d do Dom in
“Is that right Tarq, ain’t looking quite so smug
Go on, do one, take that early bath, you mug
Now it’s us v ten Tarq, who d’you think will win?”.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Then, there’s the full-on quarter-final in the cup
Where, tis fair to say our London-Irish blood was up
After Dominic lost two teeth in a melee by their goal
Mind you the three other kids, looked ten times worse
They had to go find a dentist, a doctor and his nurse
A scene in which Dominic’s big sister played a role.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 All these little vignettes I’ve described
I suppose should be let be, or cast aside
As part and parcel of what’s called competitive sport
Said vignettes sat in the dressing-room of my mind
Clearly undisturbed for quite some time
Truth is…I never gave a single one of them a thought.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 Until, this whizz-kids toeing it down the wing
Into acres o’pseudo green, partisans screaming at him
The coveted Golden Chalice gleams within their grasp
The Flying Frenchmen doesn’t quite reach his destination
Cos a Moroccan locomotive without a moment’s hesitation
Brings him crashing down on his derrière, a nation gasps.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Odds on a a bone got cracked?
Or The Flying Frenchman’s ankle snapped?
As a deaf bloke, even I heard something give
A quick burst o’ spray, a glug o’ Perrier
Les Bleus lead their talisman on to the field o’play
Shaking hands with a passing Maroc as he did.

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 No theatricals, idle threats or slurs get caste
A breathtaking memory from a match played in Qatar
Reminds me how the beautiful game has changed its tack
Today, a committed tackle, is as rare as false teeth on a hen
Which explains why, watching this pair o’ fine young men
Get right stuck in, I jumped up, outta the chair taken aback.

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 Peace.

Notes

France 2. Maroc 0. Watching this unbelievable tackle, by Maroc’s Amrabat to win a ball, he really shouldn’t have had a chance of, is what inspired the poem. Mbappe is absolutely flooring it, seemingly uncatchable, about to steam in to the penalty box and finish off a valiant Maroc…Until hit by a cyclone in the shape of Amrabat… bouncing off him to somersault, and end-up landing visibly shaken on his Aris, the chance gone, as are Amrabat and the spherical. Anyone reading this should, may I suggest try and catch a re-run of this jaw-dropping moment if you possibly can? Just simply sit back, watch, enjoy and wonder at the blistering bewidering pace of flying French ace Mbappe, and the chasing never gonna give it up Amrabat literally eating up ground to rein in, get at, and dispossess Mbappe, in order to keep his beloved Maroc in the game.

Absolutely blinding stuff!

H.P. Hire purchase. The Slate, The Drip, The Never-Never. Credit offered to those who couldn’t get legit affordable loans due to being brassic…lint . Skint.

Cheers for reading.

Peace.

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Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/jumped-out-a-the-chair/