A Welcome in September
In September 2008, we welcomed the following new contributors to this site :
H H Martinez
Graham Ashton
David Bentley
Click on the names above to see that person’s poem(s), or browse some selected first efforts below :
MY UNCLE DAVE
My Uncle Dave had one love in his life
Apart from Phyllis, my Auntie – his Wife
This was his love for ‘the beautiful game’
That he passed onto me, because I feel the same
My Uncle Dave bought my first leather ball
And for those who remember, dubbin ‘n all
He used to whisper – shall we go out
In-to the back yard and kick it about?
Then from the kitchen, my Dad would shout
What’s wrong with the park, you’ve worn the grass out!
Uncle yells ‘quick, stick one on me ‘ead’
Mum shouts out too – ‘that it’s now time for bed’
There’s a ball in my car he’d often say
We’ve even played football on Christmas day!
He taught me his tricks, how to tackle & slide
How to trap a ball, with my back-side!
An all-round sportsman – a true footie fan
Who’s favorite player was the wing-wizzard, Stan
It wasn’t just football, we played cricket too
Still wearing my kit, of Claret & Blue
We went to the Valley to see Charlton play
My Uncle would laugh at the things that I’d say
Like do the linesmen like wearing black?
Why does the goalie have a 1 on his back?
And how many fans are watching today?
Or why are they not, called ‘Sheffield Tues-day’?
If there was a question, I’d always ask it
Why did that man call the ref’ree a ‘basket’?
I returned the favour, long before he was ill
It was West Ham five and Charlton nil
But he wasn’t upset, that the Hammers had won
He just said David, ‘what a great game my son’
Full time is not up, for my Uncle Dave
There still be a free-kick he’ll have to save
Or an extra-time penalty for him to score
Alongside Matthews, Best, Ball and Moore
I know that our games were special to him
When we were playing 3-goals-and-in
So wherever we go, at the end of it all
My Uncle will be there – with a shiny new ball!
© David Bentley 08.09.08
Dedicated to my Uncle who sadly passed away on 23.08.08
Editor’s note :
our sympathies to you David on your loss.
I’m sure your uncle would have been proud of this great eulogy to him.
The Theatre Of Dreams
Old Trafford is our fortress,
The jewel within our crown
On entering our spirits fly,
And never come back down.
It’s the place we come to worship,
The theatre of our dreams.
Our red religion just goes on,
And falters not it seems.
The roars spark fear in many,
From the mighty Stretford End.
These songs we’ll sing forever,
On this you can depend.
We sing about King Eric,
The immortal George Best.
These legends that we worship,
All stand above the rest.
Our loyalty’s unquestionable,
And will never be divided.
So who’s this team that we adore,
It’s Manchester United.
© Graham Ashton
The Macks Versus the Mags
The distant thunder of the chant
From far outside the ground
Commences well before kick-off
Separated by a motorway
The two rivers battle
The Wear and the Tyne
A derby others teams can only dream of
A biannual spectacular
The roar of the crowd
Wear the badge and be proud
The red and the white
Plays the black and the white
An off-field war of words
Screams of foul, send him off
Surely a penalty ref
Constantly goading both players and rivals
The players emerge from the tunnel
To a onslaught of noise
Performing in their chosen colours
On an emerald well-groomed pitch
The absolute delight of the home crowd
As the first goal is scored
Silence from the away supports
But they will soon be back in tune
The final whistle blows its last
The fans continue their song
Well after 5.45pm
Into the pubs of the night
Telling their tales of heroics
Both on and off the playing field
Weeks after the event
Until the next encounter
Home or Away!
© HHMartinez 23/9/08
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
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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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