Winter In The Wythenshawe League

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 As they trundled out, onto the pitch,
I heard someone say, “This weathers a bitch.
I’m gonna get sent off in half a hour,
to make sure I’ve got hot water, for a shower.”
I said, “You can’t do that. It’ll cost us the game.”
“Oh dear!” he sneered, “What a shame.
Gettin’ a result’s no reason for freezin’
we haven’t won a game all *this* season.”
“With that attitude, we’ll make you a sub.
“Well *pity that* then! I’m off down the pub.”
He’s right; I think, it’s cold out here.
“Hang on a minute mate. I’m comin’ for a beer.”
Well everybody else follows our lead
even the geezer who should o’ referee-d
and in the next half hour we’re all sinkin’ one.
The landlady’s laid some butties on.
A cold an’ frosty mornin’ in the park,
it’s what it’s all about : this football lark.

Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/winter-in-the-wythenshawe-league/