Football Poets

The FAI Cup Final 2003

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Through leaf-strewn streets, the two tribes strode
In joyful apprehension,
As both converged on Lansdowne Road
Awash with nervous tension.
Both managers were keen to stress,
And with cajoling words express
How they’d been starved of Cup success
For too long now to mention.

¶ 2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 The gallant men from Inchicore
Were chafing at the gristle.
Forty long drawn years or more
Stung more than any thistle.
But Longford’s name had ne’er been sketched
Upon that trophy often etched,
So, with the hopes of both teams stretched,
Young Kelly blew the whistle.

¶ 3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 With fifteen thousand roaring on,
The game took time to settle.
Though chances came and soon were gone,
The fans were in fine fettle.
Ferguson and Barrett tried
To take the lead, but were denied,
As Adamson, composed, defied
The steely Longford mettle.

¶ 4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 The Pat’s back four were playing square,
As Prunty got possession.
Chances came, as with great flair,
He channelled his aggression.
And Longford stretched the Patrick’s backs
With many promising attacks,
Searching, probing, for the cracks
Within that opening session.

¶ 5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Then after half an hour it came
With Longford in the clover,
As Kirby came into the game
And played a long ball over.
Sean Francis, playing in the hole,
Turned Foley with some great control,
And shot, deflected, in the goal,
And Longford praised Jehovah.

¶ 6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 The Pat’s defence was looking troubled
As Longford now ran riot.
The scoreline should have been soon doubled,
To keep the Pat’s fans quiet.
Murphy put Shane Barrett free,
Who got pulled down intentionally,
And Fergie took the penalty,
But Adamson did deny it.

¶ 7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 But Pat’s fought back with steely grit
And strong determination,
And really made a match of it,
Despite intense frustration.
Creativity was what they lacked,
Whenever they in droves attacked,
But Longford soaked it up in fact
With subtle orchestration.

¶ 8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 Half time came and half time went
And Pat’s came out, guns firing.
But Longford Town were far from spent,
Their stamina untiring.
With not one Longford man exempt,
They snuffed out every Pat’s attempt,
With consummate, controlled contempt,
With neutral fans admiring.

¶ 9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 Then Tony Bird sky-kicked the ball,
O’Brien parried badly,
And to Dave Freeman it did fall,
Who blasted it quite gladly.
O’Brien in desperation flailed,
As Longford hearts in terror quailed,
But o’er the gaping net it sailed,
As Longford scrambled madly.

¶ 10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 That was Patrick’s final chance
And they became frustrated,
And Fahy’s rash two-footed dance
Predictably was fated.
And down to ten, though Pats still tried,
The outcome couldn’t be denied,
As Longford got behind their side
And loudly celebrated.

¶ 11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 Pats got a corner near the end,
And Adamson came running,
But with no Pats player to defend,
Lavine for goal went gunning.
But, with an open goal created,
Eric strangely hesitated,
Till Patrick’s right hand post frustrated
Keogh’s great skill and cunning.

¶ 12 Leave a comment on verse 12 0 But just one minute after this,
The same scene was repeated,
But this time Barrett didn’t miss,
And St. Pat’s were defeated.
And when the final whistle blew,
The tears and adulation flew,
As players into heroes grew
Once vict’ry was completed.

¶ 13 Leave a comment on verse 13 0 Pats’ expressions were so pained,
And Longford’s so euphoric.
The red and black were unrestrained,
Delight so meteoric.
And Alan Matthews drank it in,
With but a slight dishevelled grin,
Though well he knew the Longford win
Was marvellously historic.

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