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Premiership minus

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Fifty quid for fifty games,
a bargain cos it was eighty the other day.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Cutting the costs to give you a show,
no ex-managers or even ex-pundits – out you go.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Where’s the studio chairs and the expensive ties?
all sacrificed in the name of premiership plus on Sky.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 No interactive red button or Andy Gray,
What’s the world come to when he’s got nothing to say?

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 No 3D images of goal mouth actions,
just lingering replays of brand new stanchions.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 Where’s the razmatazz and the 1 hour build ups?
where’s the rumour mill questions or the artificially created buzz?

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 No focused shot’s of buxom girls with tight crop tops,
Just a belly of a fat bloke whose thinning on top.

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 And what of the cheerleaders of whom we sometimes got fleeting a glance,
disapeared I’m afraid for ads for Now 138 – that’s what I call dance.

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 Even the channel number’s just 433,
nothing as memorable or clever as 401, 402 or 403.

10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 Feel like football’s been robbed and our enjoyment snatched,
Not sure what we used to do before,
probably just sit there and watch the match.

4

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