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Shelbourne 1 Dublin City 0

Peter Goulding

Monday, April 17th, 2006

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Good Friday, down at Tolka Park,
All sober and refined,
And one would think the thought of drink
Was furthest from our mind.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 O’Neill was playing with great spirit,
Stout in mind and limb.
The Viking backs, so full of cracks,
Were just small beer to him.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Dublin City were wasting time,
Though ordered to refrain.
It seemed quite rum how they’d succumb
And roll round in sham pain.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 At last we scotched the rumours that
Our strike-force had no power.
O’Neill’s head put that to bed
In-cider half an hour.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 The east coast of the ground was hot,
Young Ollie earned his moolah.
There was no draught, so he came aft
And found the west coast cooler.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 ‘Ale and ‘earty was the ref,
Quite fit and doing fine,
Then, quite bitter, he turned quitter,
With but a little wine.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Our dominance was absolut,
Their strikeforce was too blunt.
In fact they got no decent shot
Just lacking punch up front.

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 Poor Dermot harped and yelled and moaned
As only Dermot can,
And in the end, he had to bend –
A sad, Budweiser man.

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 Good Friday, down at Tolka Park,
All sober and refined,
And one would think the thought of drink
Was furthest from our mind.

© Peter Goulding 17th April 2006

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/shelbourne-1-dublin-city-0/