Football Poets

World Cup 2010 – Day 8

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Germany 0 Serbia 1 (Group D)

¶ 2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 He beats up defenders and leaves them for dead,
Chops off their legs and then rips off their head.
Apparently, even Gattuso has said
He’s afraid of Miroslav Klose.

¶ 3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 His soul is as black as a raven in Hell,
The havoc he wreaks takes a long time to quell,
Gattuso becomes just a quivering shell
At the thoughts of Miroslav Klose.

¶ 4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 The acts of sheer viloence make referees quake
As ribcages smash and then ankle bones break,
Gattuso has vowed he won’t make the mistake
Of messing with Miroslav Klose.

¶ 5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 He goes through the game like a whirlwind on legs.
Of football’s society, he is the dregs.
Gattuso backs off like he’s walking on eggs,
All for fear of Miroslav Klose.

¶ 6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 But at last comes a ref who is fearless and bold,
Cards at the ready and eyes icy cold.
Gattuso remarked he won’t grow to be old
For he’s sent off Miroslav Klose.

¶ 7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 (Miroslav Klose – probably the Gary Lineker of German football – receiving two yellow cards in one match is akin to St. Therese of Lisieux committing two mortal sins in one afternoon.)

¶ 8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 Slovenia 2 USA 2 (Group C)

¶ 9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 The world agrees a keeper should be brave.
When called upon to act, he should stand tall
And risk a bloody nose to make the save.

¶ 10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 He must not fear the clash of boot and ball,
Nor flinch when fearsome shots are thrown his way –
When called upon to act, he should stand tall.

¶ 11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 Handanovic, to his team mates’ dismay,
Alas, was not constructed of such stuff
And flinched when Landon’s shot was thrown his way.

¶ 12 Leave a comment on verse 12 0 Whatever he was paid, ‘twas not enough,
Fearing where the stinging shot might smite,
Constructed, as he was, of timid stuff.

¶ 13 Leave a comment on verse 13 0 The shot crashed in the net to States’ delight,
The keeper ducking down behind the post,
Afraid of where the stinging shot might smite.

¶ 14 Leave a comment on verse 14 0 God bless this very human soul! A toast!
Hard proof a keeper isn’t always brave.
Unashamed, he ducked behind the post,
Not risking bloody nose to make the save.

¶ 15 Leave a comment on verse 15 0 Algeria 0 England 0 (Group C)

¶ 16 Leave a comment on verse 16 0 They thought he was the man to lead the fight,
To lead the England team into the light.
After many years so barren
That they suffered with McLaren,
They pocketed his contract with delight.
They hadn’t got the players ‘cos they’d sold their souls to Sky.
Young players couldn’t break through and nobody wondered why.
If we’d only sack the coach, it’ll turn out right.

¶ 17 Leave a comment on verse 17 0 They took the field as usual in white,
Determined to be calm and erudite.
They were going to show Algeria
That England were superior,
Carragher and Terry sitting tight.
But sadly the Algerians had not agreed the script.
True to form, the journalists and ficle fans all flipped.
If we’d only sack the coach, it’ll turn out right.

¶ 18 Leave a comment on verse 18 0 The bile carried on throughout the night,
Continuous catcalls with no respite.
The radio was buzzin’
With Mr Angrys by the dozen,
All blessed with the gift of second sight.
Draw a couple of matches and they’ll all come out to nail ya,
A point against Algeria is deemed a national failure.
If we’d only sack the coach, it’ll turn out right.