Anfield Despair

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 It should not have been this way,
but it was, to my dismay,
a game we really should have won,
seems now our season is all done,
we took the lead around their near post,
to banish our banal goal-drought ghost,
Liverpool had to equalize,
but i weren’t too worried coz Arsene’s wise,
enough to turn this all around,
to keep our feet all on the ground.
Our thoughts were of the spot-kick test,
a test at which we’re not the best,
a test, for which there was no need,
for both sides were destined to concede,
before the must-win game was over,
Torres! A bullet, in our top corner.
I didn’t think that was the end,
but hope, it is a cruel friend,
for Arsene stuck on more players up front,
Adebayor scored with a cheeky punt.
2-2! A draw that is a win!
What happened next was nothing short of sin,
The world’s softest penalty – to the pool,
of course it’s an un-written rule,
that Arsenal should never get the decision,
only the ref with the tainted vision.
Gerrard takes it, Liverpool score again,
Almunia flies, full-stretch, in vain.
Scrabbling fingertips painfully close to the ball,
Like how close we were before taking a fall.
At extra time we took every shot,
but didn’t give as good as we got,
Babel, cuts through the field like a knife,
killed our game, once so full of life.
And despite what I could pretend,
’89 is no comfort in the end.




we could have proved that it’s not a case of win ugly or lose pretty. we could have won with our fluid, attractive style of playing. we could have….but we failed.

And don’t even talk to me about the irony of that penalty.

Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/anfield-despair/