Football Poets

Real Madrid again in Champions League final

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Oh that stirring rendition of
Spanish melodies from
Dulcet tones and voices
Real Madrid,
The genuine article
For the umpteenth time
Grandees of European Cup
History and now back
Where they feel they belong
At the pinnacle shaking hands
With the past, back this time
In the Champions League Final
How many times now
10,11,12, even 13
Yes definitely 13
Incredible , just incredible
But quite extraordinary
Defying mathematics and
Calculus, logarithms and
Algorithms, geometry
And symmetry,
A force of nature
Real Madrid,
Exemplary ambassadors
On football’s highest councils
Sitting on the lofty plinth,
Elder statesmen of the game
Veterans of its inherent beauty
Frequent visitors to its
Banqueting suite, the gilded
Mirrors, the chaise longue
Next to the corner kick
Of the mighty Bernabeu
Free kicks taken next to
The opulent ottoman next
To the free kick where the
Referee’s familiar spray
But not hair spray
Will dictate fates
And awaits breathlessly
It has to be emphasised
And yet
We remember the nobility
Of Di Stefano, Gento and Puskas
When Eintracht Frankfurt
Were crushed underfoot by Real
Madrid, a picture of devastation,
Wreckage and carnage, the debris
of 1960 in Glasgow when 7-3 almost
Felt like business as usual for these
Spanish toreadors, cape flashing
The bull in desperate retreat
Barbaric by nature were they not
What a night that must have been
When you were but an apple in your
Parents eye
But Real Madrid were the pioneers
Before the rest became like trailblazers
Their football had mercilessness, cruelty
Indifference to convention
Because they did things that were unexpected,
Unusual, Masters of art and forward thinking
Innovation, formations that were neither diamond
Nor platinum but certainly gold
Positions reeking of glorious improvisation
Switching and linking, hopping and skipping
To yet more mesmeric bossa novas
Passing with rich spices of Oregano
Parsley and Thyme
Flavoursome, scented with yet
More cinnamon
Passing that breathes sweet
Craftsmanship and measured
Consideration
They must have thought
Real Madrid were just
Figments of our imagination
None could play in their ilk
But then the ball moved like
A white tidal wave washing
Gently over our vision
And we’d just witnessed
The greatest and finest
Unsurpassable, a dream
Come true,
Football full of wit, joy
Remarkable surrealism
At times, classical
Instrumentation
And experimentation
Now Real Madrid
Will meet Liverpool
In the Champions League
Final. All of our birthdays
And anniversaries have come
At once
Fitting dignitaries on this
Star spangled climax
To the European season
May will welcome
Liverpool and Madrid
With the warmth and
Tenderness so richly deserving
Of their rightful status and stature
Liverpool now many
Multiple winners
Of the European Cup
Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley
And Joe Fagan will be
Watching from a
Comfortable seat in heaven
Waving arms, pointing, whistling
Living every moment, coaxing
And cajoling, on their feet
Inspiring and exhorting,
Pleading for that European
Cup.
Remembering Kenny Dalglish
Leaping over Wembley advertising
Hoardings after Bruges had been
Beaten, fair and square
And finally Terry Mac, Ray Kennedy,
Tommy Smith rising like a salmon to head
High into the net. Perfection again
Munchengladbach in Rome.
It was almost too easy.
Steve Heighway danced the last waltz
With the Merseyside Kop
As opposed to the Spion
Real Madrid and Liverpool
In the Champions League final
It will seem like the ultimate
Outdoor concert under the stars
An exhibition of courtly grace under
Pressure, a rose garden
Of footballing mastery,
Two stately galleons
Dropping anchor into the late
Spring, dipping sun where
Paris sighs admiringly again

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