Football Poets

You’ll never guess.

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 You’ll never guess
It isn’t conjecture
Guess work
Surmising on
What could happen
The land of hyperbole
Could be the truth
It’s happened
Ladies and Gentlemen
Stunning announcement
Another new face
At the London Stadium
Time to go crazy
Celebrate indefinitely
Dance around lamp posts
Rejoicing in street parties
Claret and blue klaxons
West Ham reveal new signing
Hold the back page
Brace yourself in Barking
and burst open the bubbly
In Dagenham
This is an epoch making
Moment
As momentous as that
Pivotal day at the end
Of this month in 1966
When Sir Robert Moore
Wiped his hands on purple
And then lifted the World Cup
The Jules Rimet trophy
In the safe keeping of West Ham hands
For Bobby was home grown
And now we discover that
Flynn Downes grew up with
Claret and blue in his blood,
Soul, breathing in the Upton Park
Ozone layer
Heart beating with all those
Lovely palpitations when Sir
Geoff scored, Pop Robson
Wheeled away in delight
In familiar goal scoring attire
Flynn Downes
He glided nonchalantly
Away from the other Swans
But then came home
To be among his claret
And blue brethren
Suddenly the floodgates
Could be about to open
In Stratford’s grandest abode
We couldn’t possibly tell you
Where? How? or Who? Flynn
Downes is the West Ham
New kid on the block
Unknown and obscure
But now thrust into the
Full glare of Premier League
Prominence, poised
And yet it can’t be denied
He sounds like a throwback
To the days when
Young blood would pass through
The Upton Park portals
To little fanfare and questions
About identity and whereabouts
Unheard of, unheralded
Brentwood born
Where once Sir Trevor Brooking
Settled his mortgage and laid
Down his perfect tools of
Craftsmanship and England
Were privileged for so
Many years
So Downes a boyhood Hammer
Essex in his genetic make up
Destined for glorious deeds
Hopefully, maybe encouragingly
The finest of them all
In years to come
On You Tube you discover
Uncanny resemblances to Declan
And Bobby, upright, imposing as
The London Stadium itself
So it’s Flynn Downes for a couple of
Million, a few bob as they say
In the modern vernacular
Now for the indecisive Jesse
Lingard, dithering and delaying
Perhaps more concerned with
Hollywood multi million dollars
On fields of America
David Moyes
May we heartily suggest
Youri Tielemans or Sarr
From Watford
Far more inclined to
Don the Irons claret and blue
Jesse Lingard
Some would call him
That typical football mercenary
With designs on the American
Brand and franchise
Hanging out with the Yankees
Strike one with baseball
In his ears and eyes
But to all Hammers
Feverishly anticipating
Flynn Downes
Here lies the potential
Of the best signing of the
Summer
Still 23 and a spring chicken
Coltish and receptive to
The guiding principles of
The West Ham academy
David Moyes
Your supporters await
Another set of diamonds
And rubies, fresh, eager
Buoyant, committed to the
Cause.
This has all the makings
Of a season to remember
You never know.

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