Football Poets

Six of the best at Lincoln

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Across the pristine acres
of Lincoln green
Where the darkness of
The cathedral always
Smiles warmly across to
To the faithful gathering
Of the once famous followers
At Sincil Bank
Now no longer known as such
But where nothing has really changed
For hundreds of years
Apart from the postie who delivers
To the local baker and butcher
And the village blacksmith
Lincoln snoozes peacefully
In Middle England they welcome
Former Premier League giants
Like ambassadors and Prime Ministers
West Ham get the red carpet treatment
But last night Lincoln were
The only team to see red
Twice in a matter of minutes
Game gone for the Imps
Plug pulled out of the socket
For West Ham this became
That familiar stroll in the park
Eventually but not without
Those painful struggles
Sluggish slackness
Lazy lethargy
Passes travelling between
Across, then backwards following
Forwards
Like a painstaking
Rambling trip amid the mountains
Of second tier football
Then came the procession of goals
Mavropanos bullets home the first
The new Norwegian nugget of gold
Cuts inside, then opens up space
Like a man discovering a treasure trove
Second goal and surely this is
Beyond any semblance of
A valiant Lincoln comeback
There were no Frank Sinatras
On the Lincoln terraces
Jarrod Bowen again on hand
To remind us of his evergreen
Goal-scoring prowess
Quite possibly knocking
On the door to legendary status
Then the floodgates really
Do open, you saw it clearly
Pablo, the jury is still out
Deliberating on his every mood swing
That beard seems too striking
But arriving from a corner
He glances the ball into the net
Like a pickpocket from Oliver Twist
This is much more like it
West Ham in phantasmagorical mode
Hitting the heights of the supernatural
Don’t stop now West Ham
Fill your boots
Before Tomas Soucek
Our ageless Czech mate
Ties up the ribbons on
On claret and blue
Vaudeville, tripping the light fantastic
Two more for goals galore
Now for the Swans on Saturday
Where the boys in claret and blue
Will be hoping to chase away
Those noble Canadian geese
Swansea once of Premier League stock
When Alan Curtis and John Toshack
Went to town and ripped up the
Form sheet
This though could be the Hammers downfall
For only the second time
This season
We must hope not
And only the best

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