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Sunday football

Peter Goulding

Sunday, May 30th, 2010

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Phoenix Park, a dreary Sunday morning,
Waiting for the ref to amble over,
The outside left collapses without warning,
Hungover very badly in the clover.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Sunday morning football in Raheny,
Goalie stubs his fag out on his boot.
It could be something dreamt up by Fellini,
Coach’s wife is idly slicing fruit.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Out in Malahide, the bells are chiming,
Summoning the faithful into Mass.
The centre half displays a lack of timing,
Fails to intercept a misplaced pass.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Sunday, bloody Sunday up in Finglas,
Altercation in the home-team area.
Substitute refuses to play ring-less,
Ref just shrugs – they say he’s from Bulgaria.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Manager’s embroiled in a row,
Curses at the ref and linesman freely.
This is where we might be playing now
If it hadn’t been for Dermot Keely.

© Peter Goulding 30th May 2010

Notes

Shels manager Dermot Keely, the man who saved the club from extinction in 2006, has resigned following a poor string of results

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/sunday-football/