Football Poets

The FA Cup

November dawns bright and crisp
Stretching its limbs
And then as far as you can see
It’s the FA Cup first round
Blinking through the Venetian blinds
Now though the soft murmurings of
This famous competition
Football’s ultimate destination
Where the gentle whispering
On matchbox terraces
And Subbuteo green pitches
Its rousing, roaring crescendo
But, hold on a minute
This is patronising nonsense
Oh please do forgive this
Gross insult to the
Non Leaguers, the part time boys
Who toil in their thousands on
Factory floors with
Sweet dreamers,
Idyllic idealists
Blue collar fantasies
Amateurish follies
They can only dream of May
What a foul accusation
We know for sure that the
Privileged in the top flight
Have yet to join
The carnival procession
In January’s third round
But today is all about
Level playing fields
This weekend Accrington Stanley
Newcomers to the EFL pyramid
League Two but today
Wycombe Wanderers make tracks
Accrington who are they?
Exactly
Then the snug little cottages
Next to the gurgling streams
Of meandering Middle England
Meet those seasoned troopers
In their humble clothing
Of giant killers, who will
Without a doubt
Welcome in yet more
Non League dramas
Burton, Derbyshire’s finest
Will peek over the Peak district
Of course
Before Rushden but
Without those glittering diamonds
The FA Cup remains defiantly
The fringe theatre of football’s
Greatest thespian stages
Salisbury meet Sholing
This is the essence of the FA Cup,
The unheard of unheralded
Quietly disturb the status quo
They must hope for another crack
At glorious FA Cup feats
Just for a while though
Guiseley meet Sutton
Sutton who once toppled
High flying Coventry
Formerly top flight Sky Blues
Now back among the big boys
Yet in the late 1980s
Third round firework displays
Then the thunderous hooves
Of the EFL cavalry
Come charging towards us
Muscular battalions
Full of bluster and swagger
Here’s the lower tier
Barnsley, never non League
But sadly only once
Acquainted with Premier League
Conflicts and
Obscene millions
Now back on the lower floors
Of the Football League pyramid
It’s Aldershot
The military bugle call
Will hope to be ready
For their platoon parade
Bristling with hope and intent
Barnsley against Aldershot
It just sounds like the
First round of the FA Cup.
That raison d’etre for its
Very existence
The epitome of its grassroots
Football with its brave and reckless
Heartfelt endeavour
Galloping forth with gallantry
With no delusions of grandeur
Oh certainly not
And finally
York City against Northampton
Oh Cobblers Northampton
They’ll Never Walk Alone
Never underestimate Northampton
For they too once mixed
With the egalitarian elite
When George Best and company
Took Northampton to the cleaners
And the Cobblers were top flight
But today the FA Cup first round
Throws its first dice of the season
For the minnows and part-timers
The dustman and women
The posties who wake up
With the first crows
To deliver their first
Breakfast post
Then strut out in front of 250
Fans huddled under the
Flimsy and fragile terraces
Pulling up collars of
Sodden raincoats
Then bang on advertising boards
It’s the FA Cup first round
Of course it is

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