That Final Minute!

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 It’s that last final minute, nails chewed to the quick
As me stomach churns over, I feel kinda sick
One goal will do it, just one goal, that’s all
If we’re to carry on winning, we, NOW, need a goal

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 The ball’s in our corner, God… keep it in play
We don’t need a throw in, awarded their way
Lump it up their end, as hard as you can
Route ones the ace, that we hold in our hand

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 There’s punters obscuring me view of the game
“Oi mate, can’t yer sit down”? “Nah, I’ll miss me train”
Their manager chucks on a sub to waste time
As fans with no passion, pause …neath bright exit signs

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 He’s gone past their full back, he’s done him for pace
Cross it for Christ’s sake, how long can it take?
Our bloke up the middle, creeps in like a ghost
As their keeper’s deceived, by an… in off the post

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Me hearts pulpatating, me throat won’t spew words
The players go crazy with dances absurd
Grown men are hugging and kissing their mates
As fans with no passion, pause…. miffed at the gates

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 The ball’s in the net, it can stay there for good
Their keeper is downcast, with hands on hips stood
He looks to the floodlights, that shine on his face
Then wishes that he, was in some other place

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 The re-start is planned, sands of time have run out
A shrill peircing whistle inspires the crowd
To jump from their seats at the end of the game
As fans with no passion, sit…. sullen on trains!



The beautiful game’s agony and ectasy is being played out in that final minute, when anything can, and quite often does happen, all of a sudden there’s a lull in the play and your passion cools just for a second, which enables you to watch people, wake like, making their way to the exits!

I sit three seats from the gangway, that these herberts use to walk, stop, walk, which obscures me view of those last vital minutes of the game. No wonder so many people have started to stand up..again!

The bloke, who sits in the row in front of me, often turns around and shouts, “Oh, is the game finished and no-one’s told us? Cos we can’t blimmin well see what’s happening on the pitch with all these people standing in the blimmin gangways”.

Why not catch the next train and enjoy….the whole game?



Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/that-final-minute/