Ireland vs. Mauritius, Dublin 1973

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 the man from Mauritius
was deeply delicious
he took us to the game
to the roughhouse and fighting
scratch-stabbing and biting –
my sister and i were to blame

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 as we fought for possession
of the smooth-skinned Mauritian
our boyfriend in all but name

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 the crowd growled, excited
our tempers subsided
but what did we see of the game?
all right, it was soccer
and that was a shocker
mum didn’t approve – what a shame

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 for the happy Mauritian
who assumed the position
of boyfriend in all but name
to the two little mobsters
sunburned as lobsters
who fought for him all through the game

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 now we were just nine then
had no thoughts in mind then
of the international fame
of the squad from mauritius
– were they not just delicious
and boyfriends in all but name?


[Is this all here or has the top part disappeared? let me know. first line should read “the man from Mauritius”.] This is the only International I’ve been to and it’s totally bizarre that I should only remember fighting, and the Mauritian. The real boyfriends arrived much later; nothing creepy here, to be sure

Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/ireland-vs-mauritius-dublin-1973/