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Switzeland Spain & Italy Triumph E24 #2

Crispin Thomas

Sunday, June 16th, 2024

Magyars toil in vain

Swiss roll over Hungary

in a sea of red

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

with Yamal’s sweet pace

though outnumbered in the stands

Spain lay down their mark

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

shocked from the word go

holders sink Albania

to restore their pride

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Scotland, brave but battered

joe morris

Saturday, June 15th, 2024

It was the opening night
Of Euro 2024 hostilities
The smoke and carnage
Of a Bavarian evening
Scotland, thumped and thrashed
By frightening Germans
It shouldn’t have been like this
But it did happen
We feared the worst
And they were confirmed
Before the game
A huge white inflatable
Sheet stretched across
The hallowed turf
Of Bayern Munich
Suggesting excruciating torture
Scotland, pinned to the ground
Pleading for mercy and clemency
Just for being victims
Of circumstances
But this was a Munich massacre
And Scotland the Brave
Became Scotland the bewildered
We should have known
A crushing defeat for our
Hogmanay heroes
When New Year dawns
It was written in the stars
Omens of misfortune
All around the Allianz Arena
Cards of all colours
Across the rainbow spectrum
Were held aloft
European symbolism at its most
Vividly best
Then the referee blew the whistle
The whisky distilleries of Glasgow,
Edinburgh and all Scottish watering holes
Cried and wept into the alcoholic
Seat of Jack Daniels
Even Bonnie Prince Charlie
Would have sobbed into his
Flagon of mead
Foaming pale ale
Fountains of tears
On navy blue terraces
Flood through Scottish pride
Drowning their sorrows
A night to bury for all time
Sleep peacefully Scotland
Don’t dwell
On what might have been
Since this was a night
Of German excellence
A Teutonic masterpiece
Scotland, strangers in
Sinatra’s night
Simply damage limitation
5-1 should have been
Double the final figure
The Tartan army
Trounced
With almost military
Efficiency and
A passing carousel
That spun around
Dazed navy blue shirts
Three down
With nowhere to go
Before half time oranges
Scotland, lacking in
Any zest or tang
On a night of cards
And German cads
There could have been
Only one result
For now it’s Hungary
And Switzerland
For our tartan friends
Four points
May be enough

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Football’s coming home…

Phil Brennan

Saturday, June 15th, 2024

In 66 we won the cup,
The football world was shaken up.
But since then, it seems, we’ve had a curse,
Our football luck’s been quite perverse.
In 1970, we gave it a try,
But in the quarter-finals waved goodbye.

In 86, Maradona’s ‘hand of god’,
Won the quarter-final for the cheating sod.
Italia 90 brought semi-final pain,
Gazza’s tears like pouring rain.
2002, the quarter-finals brought no joy,
Beaten by Brazil’s samba boys.

2006, another quarter-final curse,
Every time it feels much worse.
2018 saw a semi-final try,
But Croatia’s win saw our dreams die.
In 22, expectations high for Southgate’s men,
But the quarter-final jinx struck again.

Our Euro hopes, they’ve been much the same,
Quarters and semis, usually end the game.
In 68, we reached the last four,
In 96, lost a semi-final once more.
2004 and 12, quarter-finals brought yet more pain,
Our poor supporters left to groan again.

In the 21 final we faced Italy’s blues,
Penalties again, of course we’d lose.
It’s now fifty-eight years of hurt.
For those three lions on the shirt,
But let’s leave all our tears in the past,
Football’s coming home, at last!

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Germans Set The Bar E24 #1

Crispin Thomas

Saturday, June 15th, 2024

Germans set the bar

deadly class and swagger sees

Scotland left in shread

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Here we go…….Here we go ……..again

David Sanderson

Friday, June 14th, 2024

All aboard for the biannual Wurlitzer
This year it’s set to be one hell of an achterbahnfart -think Alton Towers twister
Who will emerge out of the rest ?
When we know full well that we are far from the best

We sit with our worries on our sofas of eggshells
We polish the hope and sing of the glory
Sucked in by the hype we fly the flags high .
……….then watch those dreams fade and die
It’s such a fragile existence in our Ingerland bubble
We all know there’s gonna be 4 weeks of trouble

Fresh faces impress , Hey Jude it’s what you were made for…
But doors left open , a jigsaw back four
You can plan an attack but where’s the defence ?
No Carlisle Beckenbauer why didn’t they see sense ?
A muddled midfield
Where’s the shield ?

It’s time for a win
Let’s be there in the final
no long hurt summer of rancour and blame
If it’s not to be then keyboard warriors will ignite the flame .

The manager ponderous or measured ?
Let’s pray his selections will come to be treasured
If it’s not this one , then what’s to be done ?
…….back down that well trodden road to square one .

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Come on England.

joe morris

Monday, June 10th, 2024

Oh we’ve heard it all before
Ad infinitum
The speculation, excitement
Hype and hyperbole
It’s this year
It has to be
It’s in the stars
And destiny calls
England, European Champions
Everything is in the right place
It’s all poetically aligned
Even the Bard
Thinks we can do it
It’s England’s year
Football is definitely coming home
Let me tell you now, though
The neighbours did tell us,
As far as they’re concerned
We’re still on a Med beach
Topping up well varnished tans
And we won’t be home until
At least the next World Cup
It’s just a sad, old mantra
The record is stuck, mate
Vinyl suspended in animation
If it was coming home
Then we’d have booked the caterers
And thrown a riotous party
But England have been frozen out
Of Iceland
So time for sober reflection
It’s tournament football
That old chestnut.
Dig out those Union Jack flags
That now resemble grubby
Table cloths from 1966
We beg for perspective
We can still see Venners bit lip
From Euro 1996.
If only the Gazza lunge in front of
Goal had connected
Then Terry Venables may well
Have been jumping up and
Down in effervescent
Trafalgar Square fountains
Face painted with joy
But now we have Gareth Southgate
And if rumours persist
He may well be heading
For that salubrious North London
Suburb, for quite a while
This weekend it’s Euro 2024
Crates of lager and alcohol
Ready to explode in
Prolific beer gardens
Surely not another
False dawn
It’s 58 years now
Since Bobby and his
Beloved colleagues
Restored our belief
In football humanity
World Cup dreams do
Come true
But this weekend
We’ll all be gathered
For another crack
At the coconut shy
This time we will get
That goldfish
We can feel it in our water
Germany here we come
Fate had a quiet word
With us all
And the consensus
Said quite categorically
Yes, it’s our turn to win
The big one
Come on England
You did promise

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It’s Coming Home. Isn’t It ?

kevin halls

Sunday, June 9th, 2024

‘England to win the Euros ? ‘
so here we go again,
every competition they’re in
it’s always been the same.
We get caught up in the hype
‘ it’s coming home we all cry,’
wear our England colours proudly
and drink all the pubs dry.
Win a match we get excited
go ballistic when we’ve won two,
but draw or lose a game
then they haven’t got a clue.
Me, I’m just not confident in Southgate
especially now without his lucky waistcoat,
but we have to get behind him
even if he wouldn’t get my vote.
‘ So is it finally coming home ? ‘
all us Three Lions fans do shout,
or if they do reach the final
lose again in a penalty shoot out !

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My Euro 24 Wall Chart

Crispin Thomas

Monday, June 3rd, 2024

the George Cross flags are absent
no wild hysteria here
the local pubs are closing down
It’s hard to watch somewhere
but I’ve got all I need at home
before they kick a ball
my Euro 24 Wall Chart
is here upon my wall

I feel like a little kid
my days are neatly planned
I’ll watch and listen to it all
with Sharpie pen in hand
in ’58 I had one
I stayed up late at night
saw Pelé on our first TV
right there in black and white

and ev’ry golden tournament
the newspapers would share
their own exclusive Wall Chart
and I would get mine there
I’d keep the scores in felt tip
and fill them til the end
my Euros and my World Cup Charts
became my childhood friends

and we’d re-live those matches
the new emerging stars
in Summers on our little streets
between the passing cars
but all those days are gone now
they’re long-gone memories
when we would play in roads and parks
with lamp-posts, coats and trees

the years of disappointment
have taught us how to cope
as once again we feel inside
that dream belief and hope
and for a month we’ll live it all
through all that we perceive
and win or lose I know deep down
one thing makes me believe

I’m talkin’ bout my Wall Chart
It’s blank upon my wall
but with my pen we’ve won it
before we kick a ball
and though the flags are absent
and wars fill heads with fear
and refugees risk ev’rything
we pray solutions near

and I will follow England
and get behind Ukraine
and even shout for Scotland
ev’ry now and then
and we will all get drawn in
no matter what we say
the colour and the spectacle
the shocks along the way
and we will watch and listen
and we will kick each ball
and I will fill my Wall Chart
right here upon my wall

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Real Madrid- Champions League winners again

joe morris

Sunday, June 2nd, 2024

Now we knew it would happen
Sooner or later
Because it always has
Like a venerable uncle
Who everybody loves
A priceless Ming vase
Or decorative
Constable painting
Real Madrid, yes
Those peerless maestros
Now European Cup holders
Or Champions League victors
In the modern currency
For just a barely believable
15th time
Abacuses totally surplus
To requirements
Forget it
No need for 1970s calculators
Di Stefano, Gento, Puskas
The three Madrid miracle workers
Back on that night of
Of elegant exhibitionism
When football defied explanation
In 1960 when Eintracht Frankfurt
Were demolished 7-3 at Hampden Park
Rose petals of lyrical hives of
Honey
Passing and finishing that blew
The senses and sensibilities into
That rarefied world
Where football is played on
Mars, Venus and Mercury
Last night England’s Jude Bellingham
Gave a dress rehearsal hopefully
For Euro 2024 and England
We can only hope Hey Jude
Becomes top of the charts
In German beerkellers
The lad has it in spades
Impulses in his veins
That send electrifying
Currents through
Gareth Southgate’s
Celebrated 22 and
Eventually 11
Will hope to recall
The last moments
Against France
In World Cup 2022
And that agonised
Moment in World Cup
Yelping and biting
Cushions and gnashing
Yet more teeth
When Croatia drove
Gareth’s boys
Onto another hard shoulder
World Cup semi final
So close and yet
So far
England’s timeless story
It has to be our time

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Sed Non Satiata

Denys E. W. Jones

Sunday, June 2nd, 2024

We’ve had the Premier League Campaign,
Plus two domestic Cups.
Three European Tournaments,
Now isn’t that enough?

No, we have not yet had our fill,
Our thirst is still not slaked.
There’s more to come in Germany,
And frankly we can’t wait.

Our mouths are moist, we lick our lips,
The prospect’s so appealing.
Though not one ball has yet been kicked,
We’ve got that tingling feeling.

While those who are not football fans
May think we are all nuts,
We lovers of das Schöne Spiel,
Just cannot get enough!

2/6/24
Denys E. W. Jones

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Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/page/11/