Football Poets

Morse

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 “Well what do you make of all that then, Sergeant Lewis?”

¶ 2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 “I’m not sure I follow you exactly, Sir?”

¶ 3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 “Well, countless episodes and numerous series,
all set in a quaint city setting, among some of the most
beautiful countryside to be found anywhere this side
of the Equator, covering just about every landmark
of note, especially at the venerable seat of learning,
introducing the masses to the Bodleian Library, All Souls,
Balliol, Keble, Nuffield, Oriel, Queen’s, Wadham et al.

¶ 4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 All that, and yet not one reference to, or sighting of,
possibly the biggest concentration of Oxford’s
inhabitants – neither the Manor Ground, nor the new
place, what’s it called? The Kassam Stadium – I ask
of you, what sort of a handle is that? It sounds like a
bad magician’s stagename.

¶ 5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Anyway, all that’s about to change. Finally, we have
a new missing person’s case to deal with. Apparently,
the management duo of Ramon Diaz and Horacio Rodrigues,
have not been seen in town for weeks now.

¶ 6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 Although the thought of having to deal with all those
uncouth football types, fills me with dread. Never
trust a sportsman, I say, too many hormones and
constantly on the the hunt for conquests. Too much
impertinance and appertunances, I say.”

¶ 7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 “What’s that chant they always sing Sir?
It’s as if they can’t even spell ….
Come on you U’s”

¶ 8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 “Well it’s hardly opera, is it Lewis?”

¶ 9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 “What’s Oprah got to do with all this, Sir? Should
I call over to the TV studios to see if they’re there?”

¶ 10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 “Enough of that, Lewis. What have we got so far? And
before you answer that, let’s go for some liquid
refreshment. And it’s your shout. There’s no crime worse,
than not buying a round.”

¶ 11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 scene shifts to pub

¶ 12 Leave a comment on verse 12 0 “Well Sir, the only clue I’ve found, is this mad site on the
Internet, the Football Poets.org ….”

¶ 13 Leave a comment on verse 13 0 “Ahhh, the information superhighway – well, that’s one road
I shan’t be taking in my Jaguar.

¶ 14 Leave a comment on verse 14 0 And football poetry? That’s rather a contradiction in terms,
don’t you think, Lewis?
A dissonant derivation. An asinine equivocation.
Anyway, what’s the clue?”

¶ 15 Leave a comment on verse 15 0 “It says :
We’ll not be found
at the Manor ground
nor the Kassam

¶ 16 Leave a comment on verse 16 0 We watch from afar
until the door’s ajar
but really, you’d be better off with Haslam”

¶ 17 Leave a comment on verse 17 0 “Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it Lewis?”

¶ 18 Leave a comment on verse 18 0 “I’m sorry, Sir?”

¶ 19 Leave a comment on verse 19 0 “Well, if you can see beyond the woeful verse :
All points lead to Argentina. Harry Haslam once had
the chance to sign Maradona, but ended up with Alex Sabella.
I think this calls for one of our special episodes in some
sun kissed clime, with racy women jackhammering their
eyelashes at me. Home of Evita, the Tango, the Pampas, Polo
and the only Welsh speaking community outside of Cymru.
Come on then Lewis, hurry up, I can already hear the rotund
femme fatale endevouring * to stretch her vocal chords
in the Colon House.” **

¶ 20 Leave a comment on verse 20 0 Chief Superintendant Strange :
“Morse! What’s all this about an all-expenses paid trip to
Buenos Aires? I think it’s time I pulled rank on you. Now,
where are my maracas?”