Listening To The Game
¶ 1
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sometimes we’re in lock-down
the pressure is immense
it’s different at this level
but always it’s intense
¶ 2
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sometimes it’s confusing
the crowd subdued or bored
sometimes you can’t quite make out
exactly who has scored
sometimes it’s hard to handle
a feeling you can’t name
and clock-watching gets nervy
just listening to the game
¶ 3
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sometimes it’s impossible
you’re working on the day
or distances are massive
on nights when they’re away
but sometimes if we’re losing
there’s no-one you can blame
and fear and stress get multiplied
listening to the game
¶ 4
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sometimes it’s so frustrating
we scream until we’re blue
but radios can’t hear us
there’s nothing you can do
and sometimes commentators try
to calm us on the mike
with memories of playing days
or what the food’s been like~
sometimes it feels old fashioned
like way back in the day
before TV before BT
we followed games this way
¶ 5
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but sometimes deep inside you know
it’s always been the same…
why do we put ourselves through this
listening to the game?
¶ 6 Leave a comment on verse 6 1 ~
35
You really evoke the heightened tension you feel when listening rather than watching the game. I spent years listening to a guy called Derek Lacey on radio cumbria. He was the worst commentator, would forget all the players, forget to commentate on shots on goal, describe seagulls, pies all manner of eroneous things. Sadly he’s passed away and I really miss him. He felt like a friend in the end. His commentary was legendary. This poem captures that sense of distance and intimacy very well.