Welcome to Will Gore, Congrats to Sarah Wardle
Welcome this week to William Gore, who submitted a really touching poem about one of the World’s greats, Garrincha (see below).
I’d also like to take this opportunity to extend our congratulations to Sarah Wardle, a poet and lecturer at Middlesex University, who was recently appointed as poet-in-residence at Tottenham Hotspur, at least until the seasons end (hopefully longer). What a fillip for Football Poets everywhere. Although Sarah hasn’t submitted any poems here yet, she has personally indicated that she hopes to soon. I’m sure our celebrated Arsenal fan, Michael ‘SoonerGooner’ Adubato, can’t wait!
To read more about Sarah’s appointment, follow these links :
Independent : http://enjoyment.independent.co.uk/books/interviews/story.jsp?story=513886
Guardian : http://www.guardian.co.uk/arts/features/story/0,11710,1191658,00.html
BBC : http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/london/3647215.stm
Also, just a reminder, if you didn’t read the two poems by Pat Ingoldsby, a personal favourite of mine, be sure to look them up.
Stuart likened him to Dennis Gould, who I believe is one of the original Stroud Football Poets, and another very enjoyable read for those of you who haven’t checked out his poems.
William Gore’s great début :
Garrincha
There is a magnificent white tomb
In a small cemetry
At Raiz da Serra in Brazil
A monument to Miguel Campos
A footballer for the local team,
Vila Atletico Clube.
Miguel never brought Brazil to her feet.
Miguel never touched Jules Rimet.
Unlike Garrincha.
In 1958, you were spectacular!
In 1962, you were God!
How can one man rule the world?
Ask Garrincha.
The angel with bent legs,
Who won the World Cup
Alone .
The history books should read,
1962, World Cup winners-Garrincha
Miguel did not see your first triumph,
And missed the final masterpiece.
He died in 1957, aged twenty five,
It says in gilt, on the front of his tomb
That stands so tall amongst
The slanted slabs of sad grey,
That are the final shrines
To so many departed people.
The neighbour with whom you shared many a night.
The doctor who cared for your sick child,
The father of your best friend.
Each one loved and remembered.
look at the yellow of the small futile flowers.
There is another grave here
Different from the rest
where no flowers sit.
In the shadow of Miguel’s tomb
Lies the final home of Garrincha
Quiet and unkempt.
© William Gore 27/4/04
William adds :
I was inspired to write this poem when reading Alex Bellos’ book “Futebol: The brazilian way of Life”. The idea for the poem came from the moment in the book when the author visits Garrincha’s grave.
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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Crispin Thomas
25th January 2023
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23rd January 2023
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Crispin’s Corner
In Memoriam
Kick It Out & Christmas Truce
Latest Comments
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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18th August 2022 at 10:20 am
To put it politely!
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