Football Poets

Shels 2 Hajduk Split 0 Medley

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Holidaying in Bantry

¶ 2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 The mountains loom large in your personal karma,
Dark brooding shapes in the clear azure sky,
Kissing white clouds as they skim meekly by,
Dictating the sweep of the grand panorama.
Yes, the view ‘cross the bay is a breathtaking sight,
But oh, to have been back in Tolka tonight.

¶ 3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 If the sheer cliffs of Mizen had power to talk,
What tales could they tell of misfortune and glory?
Each wreck off her coast can relate a sad story
Of heroes and death off the shore of West Cork.
But they pale ‘neath the deep rolling waves, in the light
Of the drama unfolding at Tolka tonight.

¶ 4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 We drove down to the harbour, so tranquil and calm,
And gazed on the sparkles that danced o’er the bay
Like clusters of diamonds awash on the spray,
And beneath the cool moonlight, my wife took my arm.
The light lapping waters made everything right,
But oh, to have been back in Tolka tonight.

¶ 5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Hate and Love

¶ 6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 I hate it when they fall to earth pretending they are dead,
Or roll around a dozen times with hands clutched to their head,
Or take an age to get the ball when it rolls out of play
And placing it correctly takes the best part of the day.
I hate it when a player goes off – can snails move more slowly?
And all the fuss when our attacker breathes upon their goalie!
But all that sheer, unbridled hate just dissipates, I find,
If the team who have been wasting time should fall a goal behind.

¶ 7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 The Ndo Turn

¶ 8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 “Bring it to the corner flag and keep the ball in play!”
We yelled at Joseph Ndo as the seconds ticked away.
But Shelbourne’s newest debutante ignored us to a man,
And turned the last defender with a Johann Cruyff élan.
Ten thousand voices in the crowd were wilfully ignored,
But, boy was he forgiven, when he crossed and Alan scored!

¶ 9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 The Sweet Smell of Success

¶ 10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 The sponge came out the oven
And was placed upon the tray,
The warm smell wafted through the air
With golden brown bouquet.
Then through the kitchen door came Davy
Rogers, strong and willing,
And with a spoon and flat-edged knife,
He ladled on the filling.
So sweet the almond mixture
And so generously afforded,
That everybody present gasped
With wonder and applauded.
But still it wasn’t finished, and
With bakers’ pride at stake,
Up stepped Alan Moore to put
The icing on the cake.

¶ 11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 Heaven

¶ 12 Leave a comment on verse 12 0 Forget about cloud number nine,
We’re up on cloud eleven.
Everything is so divine,
I reckon we’re in heaven.

¶ 13 Leave a comment on verse 13 0 Such total joy is oh, so rare,
Such unimagined bliss,
I never even dreamt that there
Were moments such as this.

¶ 14 Leave a comment on verse 14 0 Treasure Ireland

¶ 15 Leave a comment on verse 15 0 Captain Fenlon turned towards the parrot on his shoulder.
“Since we were sunk last year,” he said, “I’ve grown a whole year older.
We’ve slipped the great Croatian fleet, a bunch of grizzled codgers,
And now, I think, its time to hoist the Jolly Davy Rogers.
From Iceland’s cold and distant shore, this journey’s been in motion,
Travelling o’er the stormy sea and cataclysmic ocean.
We boarded shiny galleons, and took what we could plunder,
And still their mighty cannons haven’t ripped this ship asunder.
I can’t believe the distance that this listing ship has brought us
And now we’re sailing boldly into strange uncharted waters.
It’s time we headed south to try and take that Spanish schooner,
So turn the ship around, me boys, we’re off to A Coruòa.

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