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The Old Days

Dennis Swift

Sunday, February 26th, 2012

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 In these days of fair-weather football my mind drifts back when I was young
We played on rutted pitches with long grass puddles and piles of dung
We sometimes played twice a week even after a hard days graft
And never complained about the state of the pitch, we got on with it and laughed
Some of us played Saturday, Sunday and when it came lighter, midweek!
Most of liked beer and judging by their shape didn`t sport the best of physique
But even though we played hard we went to ground we got back on our feet
Unlike our modern day posers who cry when they get beat
We met in the pub and drank a few pints, others were a little more reserve
They were the sensible ones which we as team mates we didn`t deserve
The drinkers of the team were mainly defenders and cloggers at best
Whilst the decent set of players were forwards who gave us defenders a bit of a rest
I remember one winter it rained for days and the pitch was full of mud
This suited me fine and slowed down our opponents who`s forwards were very good
A ball over the top sent this lad in on goal he was quicker than me but much shorter
I found an extra gear and brought him down in a large puddle of water
There was no change of shirts so we had to get on whilst soaking wet through
And we had to wring them out at half time whilst the manager gave you a talking to
We never had fifteen minutes just a drink, a chat and a quick turnaround
Another forty five minutes on a mudded and puddle filled ground.

© Dennis swift

Notes

I went to watch the Sunday league game on the pitch close to my home, the game was called off because there were a couple of puddles. I felt I had to write something about the pitches we played on.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-old-days/