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Sunday Afternoon, West London.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Indian summer
Redmen on tour
Torres is coming
Hoping he’ll score.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Fans lick their pencils
Cech is crossed out
Hilario’s tested
Diminishes doubt.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Essien massive
Box to box man
Drogba lies passive
Ignored by the fans.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 On the hour deadlock is broken
Nico ghosts in to the box
Pepe springs up in a tantrum
A frustrated jack in the box.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Yossi appears and we’re worried,
Why was he left on the bench?
It’s clear from the way that he scurries
Cross turf, this boy is one fleet footed mensh*.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 On ninety we’re two up
Malouda has scored
The stadium lights rock
Blue mayhem ensures.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Yossi rolls one past an upright
Gerrard inspires a fine save
Ballack is first to realize our plight
To force any danger away.

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 The end comes and Madness are playing
On the tannoy as fans troop away
In Carluccio’s after sore throats needed bathing
From the excessive singing of praise!

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 Reviving the moment (as you do when you’ve won)
We rush home to TV’s to see if we’re on
Reliving the joy and sheer anguish
With the passionate songs we had sung
Our day marred by the theatrical antics
Of your man who caused time added on!

6

Notes

One for the football purist (I can never spell that French word properly) at Stamford Bridge, yesterday. With old scores and recent problems to to be addressed in both camps, it was full on English passion right from the kick off.

Easily the best performance of the season by the home team clearly instigated by the clever attacking qualities of the opposition who turned up to really give it a go for the three points thus ensuing we had to be at our most resolute Dennis Wise (defensive wise).

As the poem says Didier Drogba lost his head AGAIN, to the continued annoyance of both sets of fans and a referee who to his credit was having none of it and most of the time just left him to screw his broken legs back on, get up and get on with the game, The Royal Opera House at Covent Garden surely beckons and he must be up for a part in Swan Lake when his football career is over.

Yossi Benayoun scared the living daylights out of us when he came on, and could easily have netted a brace on another day. What he’s doing, sitting on the bench is obviously none of my business but he really impressed me no end.

One of those days to definately remember.

Peace.

Kev.

*Mensh,Yiddish for man (indicates maturity and dependability)

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/sunday-afternoon-west-london/