Memories of the Day

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Granddad sitting on a chair from the kitchen
Sharing pearls of wisdom about the Jerries
Either at your feet or your throat
Their first goal added to descriptions
Watching in black and white
Granddad added the colour
Those who score first, seldom win
Overplays in my mind
Until we equalise
Too and fro, Hurst shoots
The house ignites
Then the ball hits a defender
Hangs in the air
Peters strikes…thump
We’re winning…we’re winning
Physical Excitement
Collapses into nervousness
Hong long, how long now
Jack stretches and heads
German falls to the floor
Free kick, free kick…never
Hammered into the box
Peter, Stiles, Charlton turn
Wilson stretches, deflects
Off the back of a German
The ball hangs in the air,
Caught in time,
A nation gasps, space opens,
naked net begs intrusion
Banks falls like a tree
Silence, cold silence
They equalise, how dare they
It’s our day, Our cup
Final whistle blows
Brothers paper round calls
He doesn’t want to go
I merge with the carpet
Half-knowing what is to come
He can’t go alone
It’s not fair… What!
But, I’ll miss extra time
I watch has he wanders
Grudgingly up the Rise
Conscience suitable pricked
I go to join him
Half way round
Throwing papers through
Half opened doors
I hear the cheers
‘Cum in…cum in’
We’ve scored…we’ve scored
I watch the strangers telly
Ball strikes ball
Hurst turns, shoots and falls
Strikes the bar, rockets down
Hunt raises his arm
Defender heads the ball
over the bar, corner?, goal?
Referee tell us please
Speaks to linesman
Whistle to lips
Points to centre
It’s a goal, a Goal
Germans don’t like it
I leave to tell Greg
We meet in the middle
Of the empty street
We’ve scored, we’ve scored
Vainly we hope to finish
To see the last moments at home
Yards from home
The street explodes in cheers
Doors fly open
Another invite
This time together
In a strange house
We watch Hurst
Run, and run and bang
There were people on the pitch
They thought it was over
BANG….it was now…
It was weird to cheer
And dance in a strange home
To grab each other and jump
Literally for joy…I cried
Home in time to see
Nobby’s toothless skip
Joy, warm summer day
What happiness endured
The Memories of the Day.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 A.R. Wait


Memories of the Day – World Cup Final 1966
At the end of normal time my brother had to do his paper round
I was roped in to help – We were delivering newspapers during the extra-time period. This poem captures some of the memories of the day.

A.R. Wait

(11yrs of age in the Summer of 66)

June 2006.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/memories-of-the-day/