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King Sven, a Tragedy in 4 Parts

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Scene: A football stadium in Albania.
Enter: King Lear, the Duke of Albania, Hodderil the Fool and Norman Wisdom.
Lear: What sayest thou, Hod, does wisdom not come with experience?
Hod: Not if his name be Norman, my Lord. For then experience doth come with Wisdom.
Lear: Well said, fool, but doth not teeth come with wisdom, Hod?
Hod: Teeth like truth cannot come false, my Lord, but Norman is sans teeth, sans sense, sans Mr. Grimshaw, sans everything.
Lear: And what of you, Albania? What sayest thou?
Albania: My attack is sans teeth too, my Lord, and,therefore, I rested my hopes in the mistakes of Seaman and brave Ferdinand. But, alas, no fierce Tempest quite unshipped and drowned them. So, forsooth, in consequence, I have been quite vanquished by King Sven; 3 battles did he win and I but one. He is more a man of magic than mortal mere – only a sorcerer could pull a goal from Cole’s 13th. cap. Such wizardry quite unmans me.
Exeat Albania.
Enter Sven, soliloquising into a mobile ‘phone:
“4-4-2…keep your shape lads…early doors…little ratter…give it
early…push up…close them down…for Chrissake boot it…easy money
this…”
Exeats to Ikea. Hodderil exeats to Tottenham.
Lear hears of Germany’s late winner and puts his eyes out sighing
“Oh, Germania.” Wisdom exeats to the Isle of Man on a milk float,
shouting “Mr. Grimshaw”
END OF PART ONE. TO BE CONTD.

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Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/king-sven-a-tragedy-in-4-parts/