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The Goalhover

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 (By Gerard Manly Goalkeeper)

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 I caught that centre forward’s fast cross, ling
ering midfield madness, midball- my call- coming Fulness, in his reaching
Of the rolling sphere beneath him, Nike air, and stomping
Jump there, how he sprung upon their wimp of a left wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on a killing,
As Best’s heel had swept through the North End: the curl & gliding
Rebuffed the defence. My heart in netting
Stirred for his strike,– the achieve of, his rolling of the thing!
Ball beauty and valour and tact, oh, fair, hide, fume, here
Blast! AND the fire that breaks from the foot then, a billion
Times told niftier, more hazardous, oh that top striker!
No wonder of it: sheer plod makes Swedes a million
Shine, & FA members, ah my dear,
Fall, small themselves & gape old and silly ‘uns.

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Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-goalhover/