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Song of the Old Sweeper

Laurence Cotterell

Sunday, May 1st, 2011

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Sunday morning’s Ralgex glow,
With every touch I puff and blow.
I must play at the back as I am old,
and the cartilage crunch in the New Year cold.
And so I must block and head and sweep,
get repeatedly told I’m playing too deep.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 While the strikers turn out late from bed,
With tick-marked boots of lime and red,
The pace of their game causes no duress,
but I have an extra shorts-worth of flesh.
So I play at the back ‘cos I am old,
and the cartilages chew in the New Year cold.

© Laurence Cotterell 1/05/2011

Notes

I am a 45 year old Sweeper who likes Yeats and had to teach The Song of the Old Mother to my Year 11s in Dursley.
My career for Coaley Rovers in Div 7 Stroud League is soon to end.
High aims and low ability are central to my football and poetry.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/song-of-the-old-sweeper/?shared=email&msg=fail