The first to know
Arthur Wharton, pioneer
Sought fame
Within a game
Not fear
That may have come later
Down in the deep dark bowels
Midst shouts and howls
Of a coal pit’s narrow crater
Possibly escaping there
Among the blacked up faces
In such confined spaces
Was a release, from the constant racist stare
First, he was a champion sprinter
Officially the fastest man on earth
So why then, was he given the berth
Between the posts, in danger of splinter?
Was it because he was black?
Was it the old Victorian way
Of letting him play
But making sure he came under attack?
For sure, it couldn’t have been easy
It never is, being the first
Lighting the way, with a burst
But suffering prejudice, bad enough to make you queasy
But he set the ball rolling
For society to accept
People just as adept
And to tackle bigotry, with more than a little cajoling
——————————————————————————–
© Clik the mouse, 30.10.2002
Inspired by Crispin’s wonderful poem about the first black professional footballer, Arthur Wharton.
See Crispin’s A Burning Black Star – Arthur Wharton (1865-1930).
The following notes borrowed from Crispin’s addendum.
Arthur Wharton, the world’s first black professional footballer, was born in the Gold Coast (now called Ghana) in 1865. Twenty one years later he became the first man in the world to run the 100 yards in 10 seconds at a national championship at Stamford Bridge.This has been accepted as the first world record in the event.
In 1884 he made his debut in first class football for Darlington, moving on to Preston North End, Rotherham, Sheffield United, Stalybridge Rovers, Ashton North End and Stockport County. He died in 1930 a forgotten and penniless coal miner. His grave in Edlington, near Doncaster, lay unmarked until 1997 when Football Unites – Racism Divides raised more than £1000 to erect a headstone.
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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joe morris
24th March 2023
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22nd March 2023
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Crispin’s Corner
In Memoriam
Kick It Out & Christmas Truce
Latest Comments
10th February 2023 at 8:45 pm
I misspelt Jimmy’s nickname as it should be Greavsie. Typo !
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5th December 2022 at 8:11 pm
Stuart, you are not alone, in your dichotomy of doubt
but without dissention
you stand alone
in hogging our attention!
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16th November 2022 at 11:04 am
[Football on soiled turf]
This is a wonderful phrase which I shall be using from now on!
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15th November 2022 at 3:54 pm
Well said Crispin. One of the reasons for The Ball 2022/23 is exactly this – that FIFA need to know. The Ball is essentially a petition to FIFA to honour their commitments to the UN Sports for Climate Action Framework. They signed up; they should act. The Qatar tournament takes the World Cup in the opposite direction to that commitment. And 2026 looks like it’ll be even worse.
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8th November 2022 at 2:06 pm
Hi Guys
Re ‘Lets Boycott Qatar ‘ poem
You probably hate me banging on..and problably know (like me) that my/your not watching the World Cup in Qatar will make no difference.
Of course it won’t. That’s not the point.
OK someone might possibly eventually publish a minimal drop in terrestrial TV viewer numbers, but I fear that is unlikely.
But please above all, do go on writing poems about the World Cup, as/you we have always done. I hate to think a poem or two of mine might l make you feel bad about comenting on a game or country …or that I’ve put you all off about wanting to contribute.
So we’d love to hear from you and read your thoughts and observations, as ever on what’s going on.
Some of us have been here since Football Poets website birth/inception for the Euros 2000 ….
All my best wishes
Crispin
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18th October 2022 at 10:06 am
Shoot! (Something we’ve also been screaming in vain at our team all season !)
Great memories Joe . Before Shoot, it was Roy of the Rovers comic too, dropping through my letterbox.
Anxiously waiting each week to see if they survived in the mexcian jungle after an ambush..or a pre-season earthquake!
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3rd October 2022 at 8:32 pm
Thanks for the kind words Sharon. Yes, it was a shame with Billy Shako, but with five subs now being allowed, he might yet make it off the bench. Even if it’s just a cameo to close out a poem.
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2nd October 2022 at 1:49 pm
John, your new book is an absolute delight and more please. It’s a shame ‘Swapping Shirts With Shakespeare’ never made it off the bench, but quality football poets light up the writing fields like Roman candles. Go well.
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4th September 2022 at 12:42 pm
Great memories Greg. Took me right back.
Today I stand on a small terrace in the hills where I live watching Forest Green Rovers in L1, and keep up with Chelsea on highlights. It’s a far cry and a world away from those times when I lived as a child within walking distance of ‘The Bridge’ – just off the Ifield Road, which led to Fulham Road. The Blues were rubbish for so long, but we loved them and somehow we stayed in the old First Division for so many seasons. And of course we got to see Greavesie at his impudent best, scoring goals for fun. Mad unpredictable games where we’d score 4 and let in five.
The looming floodlights in the dark and mist on magic night games. The big games when the ground heaved.
I don’t think we ever realized how magical and incredible it was back then. The atmosphere and arriving there so early – like you said.. just to make sure you got in. Back when Bovril, tea and cake and roasted peanuts for sixpence a back were just about all on offer.
Good times.
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4th September 2022 at 12:37 pm
see above
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