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premiership meltdown

Andy Steenson

Monday, September 5th, 2005

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Wenger never saw it, Mourinho never knew,
Ferguson was countin’ cash and players 2 by 2,
Lampard didn’t dream it, Ferdinand too grand,
to see what was before his eyes, and not within his hand,
Rooney was too busy , his agent was too sly,
and Shearer, Owen, Souness were enamoured by the Tyne,
Raphael Benitez was too busy growin’ old,
Sortin’ a comb over and countin’ Spanish gold,
Bowing and a Scraping to a god called Sky T.V
these sleek well oiled practitioners of football did not see,
that slowly once the stands that thronged with thousands of the fans,
who now upon the sofa sat, remote stuck in their hands,
the kop where passion reigned supreme, their heroes for to greet,
was mainly populated by a thousand empty seats…
and where they ran to kiss the badge, and meet the heaving throng,
they found that no one bothered much, something had gone wrong..
So now they score a goal and run , salute a a box on high,
where stiff execs besuited eat, and watch the game on Sky,
care not a toss for win or loss, nor shout until they’re hoarse,
the next goals not the problem, they wait for the next course

© andy steenson

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/premiership-meltdown/