The top three battle it out

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 And so the Premier League
Hits the final straight
It’s good to be Friday
But tomorrow promises
To be even better
Even more virtuous
Boats on the Thames
Over the weekend
For traditional
University head to head
Since time immemorial
For Oxford and Cambridge
Read Manchester City and
Arsenal while never overlooking
Liverpool on their shoulders
Tally ho chaps
Let the battle commence
It could be the most
Gripping Premier League
Title race
Since both Liverpool
And Arsenal arrived
Together at the
Finishing post
At an Anfield
Fever pitch
And Nick Hornby
Was poised to pen
Literature that sung
In our hearts and his
1989, Tony Adams
Alan Smith and then
Michael Thomas
The game now at boiling point
Another crashing, dramatic
Crescendo of noise
The last kick of the game
It certainly was up for grabs
Much loved Brian uttered
Thomas through and then jabbing
The ball into the net
The old League Championship
In the Gunners pocket
Now though Arteta’s artists
Poised for a reproduction
Of that scintillating moment
When football simply
Went above the call of duty
Surpassing all other nights
Arsenal, it could be their
Season of seasons
The fans think they deserve
It for being who they are
It’s their prerogative to be
League Champions
Since their history demands
Yet another trophy
At the Emirates
Odegaard, Saka, Rice,
It has to be inscribed
On that gleaming silverware
And nobody would begrudge them
Yet more glorious feats
Of skill, strength and athleticism
Passing from Mount Olympus
But then there’s City
In their rear view mirror
Threatening to overtake
If heavy traffic gets in their way
Pep’s football painters
Manchester City are clinging onto
The coat tails, never
Underestimate football’s classicists
Always playing from memory and instinct
Serene as the softest breezes
From the whispering winds
Silence please
The top three heavyweights
Are preparing their assaults
For the crucial finishing line
The winning feeling
The open top bus parade
Around those local streets
Where so many victorious fans
Gathered from everywhere
Last but not least Liverpool
But of course
Klopp’s last throw of the dice
Anfield is presumptuous
And almost expects
Almost as many as trophies
As their fierce rivals
Glinting reflections of
Yesteryear when Bill Shankly,
Bob Paisley, Bertie Mee
And George Graham
Then the professor Arsene Wenger
Who was remarkably unbeatable
During that season of Invincibles
While City were profusely thankful
To Joe Mercer, Malcolm Allison,
Manuel Pellegrini
Gave City status and stature
Recognition in the shadow
Of Fergie’s United
Manchester United
Who set the tone and pitch
Manchester’s giants
Now boasting and gloating
Premier League titles
Crowned on the same day
At season’s end
So the Premier League
Lifts the handbrake
Presses the accelerator
Pedal, go for it
Let this one go
To the final day
Of the season
Radios by the ear
On terraces of tears
And trepidation
Then that indefinable
Feeling of
Yes we’ve done it
Lap of honour
The Premier League
Is theirs, ours,
How we relish it

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-top-three-battle-it-out-14/