Poems tagged ‘Euros’
Scotland, brave but battered
It was the opening night
Of Euro 2024 hostilities
The smoke and carnage
Of a Bavarian evening
Scotland, thumped and thrashed
By frightening Germans
It shouldn’t have been like this
But it did happen
We feared the worst
And they were confirmed
Before the game
A huge white inflatable
Sheet stretched across
The hallowed turf
Of Bayern Munich
Suggesting excruciating torture
Scotland, pinned to the ground
Pleading for mercy and clemency
Just for being victims
Of circumstances
But this was a Munich massacre
And Scotland the Brave
Became Scotland the bewildered
We should have known
A crushing defeat for our
Hogmanay heroes
When New Year dawns
It was written in the stars
Omens of misfortune
All around the Allianz Arena
Cards of all colours
Across the rainbow spectrum
Were held aloft
European symbolism at its most
Vividly best
Then the referee blew the whistle
The whisky distilleries of Glasgow,
Edinburgh and all Scottish watering holes
Cried and wept into the alcoholic
Seat of Jack Daniels
Even Bonnie Prince Charlie
Would have sobbed into his
Flagon of mead
Foaming pale ale
Fountains of tears
On navy blue terraces
Flood through Scottish pride
Drowning their sorrows
A night to bury for all time
Sleep peacefully Scotland
Don’t dwell
On what might have been
Since this was a night
Of German excellence
A Teutonic masterpiece
Scotland, strangers in
Sinatra’s night
Simply damage limitation
5-1 should have been
Double the final figure
The Tartan army
Trounced
With almost military
Efficiency and
A passing carousel
That spun around
Dazed navy blue shirts
Three down
With nowhere to go
Before half time oranges
Scotland, lacking in
Any zest or tang
On a night of cards
And German cads
There could have been
Only one result
For now it’s Hungary
And Switzerland
For our tartan friends
Four points
May be enough
The Poetry of Euro ’24 & Fooball Poets 2000-2024 (Revisited)
so much has happened in our world since last time
but suddenly a tournament draws near
so all we ask is keep your poems flowing
soon so soon it will be here once more
and may our rhymes reflect these times -it’s coming
the poetry of Euro ’24
for in the Spring in Stroud back in Two Thousand
we poets sat outside of Mills Café
and in that courtyard round a wooden table
a plan was hatched that still remains today
where once our football words were only spoken
at gigs or when we’d meet up in some bar
with all our thoughts confined to bits of paper
the chance at last to spread our verses far
the idea seemed preposterous and crazy
perhaps we were indeed the only ones
but with the help of Stuart Dave and from me too
the Football Poets website had begun
we launched in June when Summer brought the Euros
to Belgium and to Netherlands that year
and to our joy the poems came in numbers
from those who loved the game from far and near
and meanwhile in that hazy crazy summer
we stood or sat with eyes glued to those screens
when flags would fly on pubs and cars and buildings
we followed in our numbers with our dreams
and hopes grew stronger though our group looked daunting
that golden day when when we beat Germany
only to lose out to Romania
with that despairing last gasp penalty
we drowned our sorrows barely three days later
and we all swore we’d win the thing next time (!)
so we went down to Glaston’bry for Bowie
and Coldplay played the farm for the first time
before we knew of masks or isolation
before the kind of years that we have known
before our media all became so social
before we could not live without our phones
but we’re still here whichever clubs we follow
and all our words arrive here just the same
reflecting still in voices loud and booming
our love or loathing for the People’s Game
and gladly now we have this site to savour
and thanks to Chrstian* so much for it all
who rehoused all your poems in their thousands
and introduced us all here to ‘The Ball’**
so from that fateful meeting in Two Thousand
the friends we’ve made the journey on the way
we carry on with pride and we remember
the plan we hatched that still remains today
and after everything that we have been through
all since our now last distant Euro year
while all our clubs face final games appraching
so suddenly a tournament draws near …
so all we ask is keep your poems flowing
soon so soon it will be here once more
and may our rhymes reflect these times..it’s coming
the poetry of Euro ’24
Euro 2024- the draw
On the day when
The FA Cup’s grand
Bourgeoisie found
Their station in life
The January third round
And those at the higher
End of privilege
And entitlement
Meet the earthy
Grassroots of the
Artisans and tradesmen
Of the lower Leagues
Once again Euro 2024
Hoves into view
Yesterday the draw
Paired together
Europe’s ennobled
Emperors with
Those who quite
Frankly just make
Up the numbers
It’s inferior although
Adequate against France,
Germany, Spain, England,
Facing the fishes swimming
Against the tides
That follow the rest of the
Plankton fighting for recognition
And just falling short,
Hungary, Austria and Switzerland
All worthy and well intentioned
Protagonists of this German play
But sadly overshadowed
By too many glowing shades
Of superiority
Both Hungary, Austria and Switzerland
Once World Cup notabilities
In years and decades gone by
And yet lacking upper body strength
Switzerland once hosts of the Jules
Rimet Cup
Now which skiing slope
Provided the backdrop for
That scenic contest back then?
England for their part
In the most soft focus group
Serbia, Slovenia and Denmark
It could hardly be easier
Book your advanced tickets
Before the Barmy Army
Converge in their multitudinous
Droves, descending on the finest
Of foaming steins of German beer
On paper this could be pieces of cake
But football was never about marzipan,
Battenberg or Black Forest Gateau
Now that’s appropriate
Serbia and Slovenia
Surely overcome without a hint
Of struggle but you never know
With England,
Time for perspective
Never underestimate
At your peril
But victory should
Be for Gareth Southgate’s
Battled hardened soldiers
Only Danish pastries
Could be too sticky and sweet
For discerning English palates
Denmark, never to be
Lightly dismissed
And fully paid up members
Of the football awkward squad
Entertainers for as long as
Any of us can remember
How shocked we were
When Christian Eriksen
Fell horrifically
To the ground
And Danish hearts
Skipped a beat as well
But now the Danes
Offer much more than
Blood, sweat and tears
Pass masters when the
Stars are aligned
And the moon is smiling
Radiantly over the
Bavarian mountain ranges
But now is the time
To take stock before
Fulsome festive fun
And then look ahead
To sparkling German
Football exhibitions
Next summer
Where Scotland return
To European markets
On the well upholstered
Platforms of German
Excellence
Yes Scotland you’re
Up first next summer
Against the hosts Germany
It seems brutally unfair
Since we know how unforgiving
The Germans can be
When they’re riled
And wounded by slanderous
Accusations of not being ready
Or up to the task
Let the tartan brigades
Dry clean their kilts
And tune up their melodious
Bagpipes
Forget the distant mists
Of historic Culloden
And Bannockburn
Mere blots on
The past but
Now the purest sheets
Await Scotland
In yet another Euros
Open the pages slowly
Scotland
But no pomposity from
Decades gone by
When Ally was convinced
His Tartan army
Would be world champions
In no time at all
More of the restrained
Tones and bass lines of
Willie Ormond
Modesty personified
Although just as hungry
For legendary fame
Low key but ambitious
All the same
So let’s lick our lips
Once again
At European football’s
Top table
Foie Gras followed by
The meatiest steak
Cutlery and crockery
Spick and span
The best is yet to come
Italian job done
So there it was
Italian job complete
The doors have been
Emphatically blown up
Not a sight or sound
Of Benny Hill or
Michael Caine
Trattorias and pizzerias
Have served their customers
And football’s Neopolitan
Restaurant replete
With its mouth watering concoction
Italy at its most temperamental
But now mellowing with age
No longer the grizzly bears
Or the gesticulating actors
Finger pointing at referees
Rather like those spoilt children
Who only mature
When their parents lavish
Them with abundant platefuls
Of spaghetti bolognaise
And then Gareth Southgate
With his merry men
Of England
Are Germany bound
For yet more Euro 2024
Revels and celebrations
Of football’s most revered
Europeans
And yet revenge
Is sweeter than
46 years ago
When Sir Trevor and KK
Kevin Keegan
Performed the most
Artistic collaboration
In 1977 Wembley anti climax
Dancing then the heartbreak
Denouement
Denied World Cup place
In spectacular Buenos Aires
During confetti splashed summertime
Then exactly 50 years ago
Poland rocked up to England’s
Stately home
With acrobatic goalkeepers
And then the sadly cumbersome
Bite Yer Legs surely
Sir Norman Hunter
Although without the sword
Poland take the lead
Sniffer Clarke Alan that is
Predator yet not on this occasion
Just a token equalising penalty
No more World Cups before the age
Of the Seventies descended into
Woe and the argumentative voices
Who were just consumed with sorrow
Just emptiness and late night questions
Before night fell in October 1973
But last night
The united forces were bound together
The eateries were open for business
A table for two or maybe more
For Gareth Southgate
Next to the well lit window
Champagne on ice
But reserve that for the
Bavarian foothills
Where those wearing lederhosen
Will be waiting for England again
England calling Germany
Now where have we heard that one before?
But against Italy in Euro sparring
Arenas of qualifying preludes
Citizen Kane, Harry of Bayern
Munich
Now he must have had a premonition
Drives home a conclusive second goal
After the superlative Marcus Rashford
Had levelled the game
With a rocket that almost broke the net
For England
How distant that Italy opener
Must have seemed
Scamacca, a sparkler who
Fizzled out at West Ham
On the spot
Once again though Jude Belligham
Reminded us of world class
Ball control, toying with
The ball and the opposition
Like a rag doll
Here’s the menu Gareth Southgate
Would sir like a beer from Munich?
It seems so apt
Give that man the best steak
In the house
And a Euro trophy
During summertime football
Lull ready to party
We must hope
Euro 2028
So in five years hence
Across the fence
Home Counties
With prolific bounties
Football comes together
Hell for leather
The UK and Ireland
On the domestic island
In 2028 they’ll gather
In their hordes
Treading the boards
Once again football
Coming home
Never walking alone
A nostalgic throwback
No room for setback
Gareth Southgate has to deliver
Across mountain, village and river
So Jude Bellingham, Mason Mount,
Jack Grealish too
Your call to arms
Success should never be taboo
Harry Kane perhaps your last hurrah
Let’s raise the elevated bar
Bukayo Saka firing from Gunners
Markers and runners
From your cannon fire
England poised on the trapeze wire
Now or never
So UK and Ireland
Be prepared for Euro 2028
Certainly not too late
For adulation and congratulation
The Irish blarney
Amid heat so balmy
Summer on the Emerald Isle
For a temporary while
Soothing green pastures
The country that gave us
Joy and freedom
Upon their blessed fiefdom
Saintly Liam Brady
A prince among midfielders
Baton wielders
George Best
A spellbinding force
Absolutely no remorse
Northern Ireland’s finest
His Royal Highness
So it’s the Tottenham Hotspur
Stadium
And Wembley
For the footballers of the world
This crazy social whirl that whirled
Europe paying homage to the
Best of the rest
Surely Gareth Southgate
From the Lake District
To Aldgate
This has to be England’s time
Let the good times shine
It’s over a half century
Since the pubs and clubs
Had reason to celebrate
When the pain would exacerbate
Our hopes and dreams
Of our British teams
Let the frustration subside
Among the turbulent tide
England please
We’re begging on our knees
Oh if you insist Scotland
And Wales in the equation
Our closest relation
Just a Euro trophy or Cup
We feel it our destiny to sup
From the legendary wines
Make sure there are no fines
In five years
With alcoholic beers
Sprayed across the garden
Be ready to harden
Your soul and spirit
Without boundary or limit
It’s coming home
Read properly from that
Weighty tome
History has to be on our side
No more shots agonisingly wide
Goals goals goals
From all agendas
Glories send us
To that podium of triumph
Where winners
Flourish and nourish
Seize the day
Britain
It has to be our
Moment, our way
Domestic football downs its tools
For a week or two
Football becomes reflective
Gazing at the rippling waters
Of introspection, four games
Into the new Premier League season
And the same faces
Guises and disguises
Manchester City, Spurs
Arsenal of course
Liverpool and even West Ham
Improbably but welcome
Now though the international break
A pause for hiatus
Time for yet more emotion
And this time heartfelt
Poignancy,
England against Ukraine
You can almost feel
The lump in the throat
Pathos resounding through
Dark and broken streets
Charred ruins in our hearts
Ukraine, Ukraine
Always there for you
A country choked by suffering
England moved by football’s
Kindred spirits
This is football not war
Without Orwell’s shooting
Rather shooting on Euro
Qualifiers fields of glory
Of course we can smell
The burning embers
But we love our Ukrainian
Friends and allies
And always will
This Saturday football
Will link arms
In permanently warm
Entente cordiale
Brothers, cousins,
Aunties and nephews
Parents we shall never forget
And still remember
They too in Ukraine
Here in England
We feel the pain
Of shattered glass
That left nothing but shame
Flickering flames
Candles of hope
Rise again
England against Ukraine
Redemption again
Football on Saturday
Will heal and gain
Ukraine our thoughts
Will always be with you
A night for record breaking
So he stood on the shoulders of the heads
Of giants, a colossus supreme
A footballing Titan
Record breaker
The all time England goal scorer
Now 54 goals not out
Harry Kane
The ultimate citizen
If only Orson Welles
Could only have seen his
Triumphant contemporary
Perhaps in our fevered imagination
An American cousin
From a fabled Hollywood studio
Long ago
If only it were true
For not only did Kane overtake
Jimmy Greaves
In volume, quantity and number
But we also witnessed an England
Victory in the land of trattorias
Contented gondolas, seductive
Mouth watering pizzas and
Historic piazzas where suspicious
Mafia connections were once born
It was Italy in Naples
Last night
Where goals bloomed
In the first full flush
Of springtime daffodils
Heralded the first seeds
Portents of petunias
On hanging baskets of floral glory
England beat Italy
For the first time since
The precursor to Beatlemania
Jude Bellingham now established
As a world class talent
Drifting past defenders like
A train commuter on an escalator
Moving past the hustle and bustle
Of industry, endeavour and the
Morning rush hour
With a large slice of piquant
Panache, a sweet confection
In patriotic shades
Of Three Lions on the chest
Then Kalvin Phillips
With warm homages to Manchester City
But now his country came calling
And that was all he needed
Phillips spreading tranquillity
Across the nervous waters
Of Gareth Southgate’s emboldened troops
Gliding, gadding about, re-assuring,
Soothing pre match butterflies
Since English hearts
Were last embraced in
Italy in 1961
When life was less
Connected with the
Rest of the world
And only newspaper print
Delivered the template
Of football imagery
Black and white TV
With its seminal symbolism
Last night though
Jack Grealish, yet another
City gent in Manchester surrounds
Grealish, surely the finished article
Stardust status
A player of the most advanced education
What a pleasure to be a witness
Again to his footballing intellect
Wisdom beyond his years
Body swerving, twisting the torso
Ghosting past players with scholarly
Intelligence, weaving webs of subterfuge
Clever, too clever, outlandishly
Outrageously stylish, drawing tackles
And fouls like three buses and yet more
Declan, of the claret and blue parish
Of West Ham, drives home
England’s opening goal from Harry’s
Carry across the six yard box
A thrilling announcement of West Ham
But for how much longer you fear
Then Harry’s moment in the country
Where the Azzurri met Serie A
A lound cannonade of another penalty
This time correctly, vehemently
Uncompromisingly scored,
Qatar at the end of last year
Stamped upon, rubbed from memory
It was never likely to be
A French revolution
England now in the mood
For yet more conquests in this
Time, Euro 2024 in Germany
How a Euro Final in their backyard
Would give rise to swollen hearts
Of pride,
And yet let us enjoy
Revenge in Italy
Authors of the latest chapter
A perfect title
For psychological page turner
Roberto Mancini, this is an
Important breakthrough
After English hearts
Were broken
At Wembley two years
Ago
Saka back to his most
Formidable, danger in
Twinkling feet, dashing,
Cutting in and out of blue
Shirts with deceptive feet
Clandestine toes
Gareth Southgate, let
The Road to Germany begin
Teenage Kicks
So England go on through
while playing not that well,
can they lift the trophy ?
only time will tell.
Yet with only two goals scored
but an impressive clean sheet,
they aren’t a fluent attacking side
yet becoming hard to beat.
But Southgate’s looking to the future
with youngsters full of tricks,
in Jude Bellingham and Bukayo Saka
it’s not old heads but teenage kicks.
Now for the knock out football
will the Three Lions go on the attack,
or remain defensively minded
be rigid and tight at the back ?
They’ll be playing again at Wembley
verses Germany, Hungary, Portugal, or France,
I’d fancy them against the Magyars
but the others could lead us a merry dance.
But football is a funny old game
anything can happen as we all know,
it’s like being a long suffering Coventry City fan
you learn to go with the flow.
So can England win the Euros
and leave us supporters on a high
or will it be here we go again
it’s been like watching Crispin’s paint dry !
Day 8 Euro 202 haiku
woeful in attack
Expectation thwarted by
Resolute Scotland
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
tactical and tight
“poor” would by most generous
Sweden will not care
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
honours end even
Croatians are kept in Czech
Til Perisic strikes
My Account
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!
Latest Poems
joe morris
29th August 2026
Mike Bartram
25th August 2026
joe morris
22nd August 2026
Denys E. W. Jones
21st August 2026
joe morris
8th August 2026
Phil Brennan
3rd August 2026
joe morris
2nd August 2026
Phil Brennan
30th July 2026
joe morris
30th July 2026
Jason Prasad
28th July 2026
Crispin’s Corner
In Memoriam
Kick It Out & Christmas Truce
Latest Comments
28th July 2026 at 9:40 pm
Hi Denys. Thanks for your kind words. I could have mentioned Dixie Dean but decided not to.
Best wishes, mate
See in context
26th July 2026 at 3:47 pm
Great knowledge of Everton history, Joe.
See in context
23rd July 2026 at 6:54 pm
Hi Jason,
Sorry I forgot to congratulate you on your excellent poem as well.
Keep well
Joe
See in context
23rd July 2026 at 6:43 pm
Hi Jason,
Thanks so much for your kind words about Kevin Keegan, a footballer of legendary status and deeply missed.
Best wishes
Joe
See in context
23rd July 2026 at 12:01 pm
Thank you, Crispin. I will defo encorage my bunch to contribute and will of course clear it with staff room.
Many thanks
Jase
See in context
22nd July 2026 at 6:48 pm
Great poem Jase.
You are a man of my own heart …
And great to hear that you your students poems from our site.
Keep on and more please
if ever some of your students write anything suitable for here and most importantly they give you permission to publish them, you can always do so under your name referencing their names and the school..and year.
Best Crispin
See in context
22nd July 2026 at 10:29 am
I think this is best thing I have read so far about the legend. Thanks
See in context
22nd July 2026 at 10:22 am
One of the greats, inspired my generation of school kids in the 80s
See in context
23rd May 2026 at 3:35 pm
Hi Crispin,
Thanks for the featured poem for the Arsenal Premier League victory. I love that photo showing the Arsenal ladies and fans in full rattle and rosette mode. I’ve seen it before quite a few times and, I think, a bit iconic. I think it was before the Gunners victory against Liverpool in the 1950 FA Cup Final. Great photograph.
Thanks
Joe
See in context
8th May 2026 at 4:21 pm
Thanks for that Joe. Yes it’s been some season we had a blip but came out of it and finished strong. A mate of mine supports West Ham here in Coventry and my next door neighbour is a Spurs supporter, and both are getting edgy ! I like the Championship though as it’s competitive and has some good teams, players, and fans. Anyway we are back in the top flight and who knows what will happen ?
Cheers. Kev.
See in context