|

When Saturday Comes

Heather Swift

Friday, December 7th, 2001

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 It’s not about Monday, or
Any other day of the week,
It’s about Saturday.
A day in which heroes are born
And giants are conquered.
When nothing else matters, when
You forget everything that’s
Wrong or right,
For ninety minutes.
To sit, gripped, with
Fear and tension,
Heart,
On your sleeve, on the badge
You wear on your chest.
Exposed.
To everything that happens on that pitch.
To everything that happens
For ninety minutes.
For ninety minutes eleven men carry
On their shoulders
A nations hope, hope that
Never dies, even though
Each loss leaves a wound that will never heal.
Ninety minutes, a short time
In which to change a life, to change
Millions of lives.
And yet
We let passion and pride reach
Fever pitch,
As a goalmouth scramble leaves us
In the jaws of defeat, as a
Mis-timed tackle leaves a
Crumpled heap of flesh on the grass, as the
Nation erupts,
With noise and cheer,
On a beautifully struck goal.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 And it is then we realise that
Football is not a game anymore, it is
A national institution.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 It is life.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/when-saturday-comes/