Stained Glass Transfer Window

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 The pews were empty. Sunday. Early game.
The Bishop asked the Priest why no one came.
The Priest tried to distract from his flock’s sinning;
said “Offerings are up when we’ve been winning.”
The Bishop said, “Attend the football ground.
Proclaim the Word to souls as can be found.”
Now the Priest, in truth, was more a man of cricket,
but knew enough he’d better buy a ticket.
“Sold out match,” cried Steward, “but what’s one?”
Then called his mother. Told her what he’d done.
The Priest saw this free passage as a sign
enough to grab a beer (here was no line),
then settled in seat five, row ninety-seven,
remarking vacancies are close to heaven.
The Home Supporters, known to be capricious,
nodded to his collar, superstitious,
but after forty minutes, three behind,
were asking if the Devil could be signed,
At half as to the tunnel teams retired,
The Priest stood up, descended, now inspired.
Onto the pitch. The south penalty spot.
Bowed and clutched a Bible he had brought,
looked up and yelled “England’s eliminated!
All those years you waited and you waited!
Then, a few days later, you wake up
and hear they’ve gone and won the World Cup!
Not only that: their next loss will be never!
They’ll win in four years’ time, and then forever!”
Thus the Priest defined the Resurrection
Apocryphal? In football terms: perfection
(much later he would sermonize of martyrs;
metaphors made using Hodgson’s starters).
The thirsting crowd, it rose. Standing ovation.
The Evolutionists proclaimed Creation.
Then the rains came. First, the match delayed.
Then Announcer said “Must be replayed.”
The Priest was carried out on grateful shoulders.
They hadn’t seen such scenes since they were holders.
Donations, drinks ’til dark in the car park.
The Priest took in more twos than Noah’s Ark.
Thus concludes a tale of one good day.
Church and Football. Why all fans should pray.
What I’ve said is true. It is no fable.
Both Priest and Club promoted. The Lord’s Table.
The Church now full and why? Thanks to your prayers
(they’ve seen the Bishop buy a few more players).



Ah, yes. The Bishop. She was a shrewd manager. Forgive me. TM

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/stained-glass-transfer-window/