Toys for the Boys
Well I don’t know what to say – it seems a bit shallow to talk football when all this is going on, but operating on the assumption that “What do they know about international politics who only international politics know”, we’ll talk some football. My latest view from the bench comes on the back of a successful autumn for the website – poems in a Channel 4 book to go with a TV programme on creative writing for schools; requests from all over for material for National Poetry Day; requests for material for academic courses; feminist discourse on www.footballculture.net from our very own Rosemary Dun; Apple Day performances for Common Ground and as a reply to Rosemary and as a follow up to my last view from the bench, we have
“The Most Useless Lines Ever Written About Football
(Or Rudyard Kipling’s Views on how to be a New Man)”
Kipling said “If you can meet Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same
You’ll be a Man my son.”
I ask, in parenthesis,
Is it a paradox,
That he so much liked the Maxim Gun?
But, nevertheless,
I’ve tried this stoical approach,
This “What do I care if we win or lose?” whimsy,
This “It’s only football so what does it really matter?”
Sort of flotsam-flimsy,
And, nevertheless,
Whenever the latest temporary scores
Change into those ineluctable full time results,
Whenever Faith, Hope and Charity
Are nullified by teletextual reality,
I find it impossible to face the TV screen
With a self composed, icy intellectual,
Self possessed equanimity,
Focussed on the Infinite.
And I bet it’s the same for you,
I bet it is,
Because I don’t care what you are,
I don’t care whether you’re blokes, coves, youths, chaps,
Shavers, new men, old men, seamen,
Pleased to meet you boy next door men, –
Because can you honestly face a last minute loss so stoically?
Can you steadfastly ignore a last second win gained heroically?
Can you be the oh-so-cool laid-back disinterested fan,
The oh so perfectly reconstructed New Man?
Now, I’ve deconstructed myself,
And then re-constructed myself
And then deconstructed myself again and again,
I don’t know whether I’m Bill or whether I’m Ben,
From the literate re-birthed Flower Pot Men,
But on Saturday afternoons at 10 minutes to 5,
That’s when I really come alive,
Short changed by defeat or charged up by a victory,
Singing my intellect a temporary valedictory,
And then I’m not a New Man,
I’m not an old man,
I don’t know what I am,
Half boy, half man,
A footballing Peter Pan –
And I know that this must make some feminists choke,
But, honestly, it’s not easy being a bloke.
About This Site
Welcome to Football Poets -- a club for all football poets, lovers of football and lovers of (alternative) poetry. Discover poets in every league from respected internationals at the top of their game to young hopefuls in the school playground.
Publish your football poems here and then discuss them with your team mates and fans. We're archived by The British Library, so your masterpieces are in the safe hands of a world-class keeper. What a result!
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Latest Poems
Denys E. W. Jones
2nd October 2024
joe morris
2nd October 2024
Mike Bartram
30th September 2024
joe morris
26th September 2024
joe morris
19th September 2024
Clik The Mouse
18th September 2024
Clik The Mouse
18th September 2024
joe morris
16th September 2024
John Gilbert Ellis
12th September 2024
Beth Rogers
12th September 2024
Crispin’s Corner
In Memoriam
Kick It Out & Christmas Truce
Latest Comments
13th September 2024 at 6:14 pm
Welcome to Football Poets Beth
Great evocative poem Beth….
More please !
Haiku always welcome.
Hope we (FGR) get to play you again soon
Best
Crispin
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26th July 2024 at 6:25 pm
Great poem Mike Bartram. Eddie was a legend, affectionately known in Liverpool as, “the first hooligan.” Even the hoolies were well dressed in those days. The amazing thing was he was only 26 when that picture was taken. He’d played for Everton youth team and was well known to the players. He never got arrested. They threw him out and he climbed back in, just in time for Derek Temples winner.
I used the picture of him being tackled to the ground on the front cover of my book, “Once Upon a rhyme in Football.” It’s worth looking on youtube and finding the re-enactment of the Wembley scene. Frank Skinner and Baddiel went around to Eddies home in the 1990’s and acted it out on the green outside. It’s hilarious, especially all the effort they put in to get Eddie sober enough to shoot the scene.
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10th July 2024 at 6:07 pm
Hi Crispin,
I don’t know if you’ve see the picture in social media today…
a picture of a teenage Lionel Messi cradling a baby in Africa as part of a photoshoot…. the family had won a lottery to have their baby pictured with him….
the photographer has just revealed that the baby is actually in fact Lamine Yamal!!!!
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26th May 2024 at 2:30 pm
Hi Denys…
Re Man City:
OK it was 20 years ago but Criag Wilson did write this and a few others on them back in 04/05.
BTW I’m more Forest Green Rover since 2014 (and Chelsea) these days . I drum and am a standing season ticket holder .
Best
Crispin
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29th April 2024 at 2:47 pm
Hi Denys,
Yes Richard Williams you’re a brilliant wordsmith, my friend. When I first saw your football poetry I thought it was the superb Guardian sports and music writer. I once had the honour of sitting next to Richard Williams while at the Independent on the sports desk. He writes about music and sport with immense knowledge and authority. I’ve read a couple of Richard’s books recently. Great writer rather like you Richard Williams the Pompey fan. Congratulations on promotion.
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28th April 2024 at 5:59 pm
Thanks Denys. Yes your replay poem was superb.
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26th April 2024 at 4:46 pm
Nice work, Joe. You were quick off the mark with that! Good one from Richard Williams too I see.
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25th April 2024 at 7:33 pm
Hi Denys,
Thanks mate. I’ll do it now.
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25th April 2024 at 1:56 pm
Thanks Joe,
you might like to write a poem yourself on the same subject…
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23rd April 2024 at 4:03 pm
Hi Denys
With you all the way on the abolition of FA Cup replays. What are they doing to the game?
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