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My First World Cup in ‘58

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 2 The mists of time have not erased
The moments of those summer days
The images on our TV
In black and white they transfixed me
the beauty of the game back then
when you and I were only ten
And in our playgrounds we became
Garrincha ~Pelé ~Just Fontaine
In matches we would emulate
That first World Cup in 58

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 4 No choices like we have today
You watched whatever anyway
The four home nations were all there
And England’s hopes soon disappeared
But outside in the London heat
We held our World Cup on the street
With lost or worn out tennis balls
We chalked our goal posts on the walls
The neighbours used to remonstrate
That World Cup back in 58

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 The shoes I wrecked the knees I grazed
The kickabouts went on for days
With crazy scorelines every time
From fifteen nil to eighteen nine
On gravel and down at the park
We’d stay out there til after dark
The Summer football that we played
Will always last and never fade
When we would run to recreate
That World Cup back in ‘58

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Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/my-first-world-cup-in-58/