Tag: football

I’m a rugby convert

What are your favourite sports to watch and play?

There’s just one sport

That I still play.

For most I am too old.

You know that I love running

So we’ll leave that one alone.

Football was my first love

The obsession of my youth.

Law, Best and Charlton

My idols growing up.

I played a bit of rugby

We did a bit at school

But I didn’t have a feel for it

And barely knew the rules.

Our leisure sport was football

Our games would last all day

Memorably in Germany

When we’d won our World Cup.

It was when we moved to Twickenham

I caught the rugby bug.

The home of English rugby

You kind of get caught up.

The crowds that went to Harlequins

Would go right past our door.

One day I followed, took a look

And liked it right away.

There’s less a threatening atmosphere

The rival fans all mix

There’s physicality on the field

But off it there’s respect.

There are no boring 0-0 games

There’s jeopardy to the end

And so much happening on the field

You can watch it all again.

There’s different kinds of players

With different sets of skills

Though I prefer a running game

Ball quickly through the hands.

I still follow football

The universal game

But rugby’s now my favourite sport

And Harlequins my team.

I wished I’d understood it more

Back in the days I played

We just did what they told us to

We didn’t know the rules.

Football’s Coming Home

aerial view of soccer field
Photo by Mike on Pexels.com

Breaking news, announcement

English Premier League

The season is resuming

But things will have to change.

 

They’ll bring in social distancing

You can’t go near opponents.

If you dare to come too close

They’ll fall and get a foul

 

There’s penalties for sneezes

And if you dare to cough

The ref will have a red card out

You’ll have to go straight off!

 

You can not pass the half way line

For inessential travel.

If you’re near the other goal

You’ll have to wear a mask.

All spectators will be banned

They’ll have to watch from home

Chanting at their own four walls

‘You’ll never walk alone.’

Summer of Sixty Six – Part Sixteen

We’d won the World Cup

But they wanted it back!

So the games that we played

Would last all day.

There’d be big kids

And small kids

At different times

But the games that we played

Would never end.

And maybe we won

Or maybe we lost

I can’t really

Tell you and that’s

Because

We’d each keep the score

There’d be more than one

We each had our own

And believed we’d won.

Three figure scores

Would be the norm.

With jumpers for goal posts

Or maybe a tree

We’d fight to defend

That victory.

They couldn’t speak English

We couldn’t speak Deutsch

The game did the talking

And that was enough.

It didn’t get nasty

It didn’t get rough

But agreeing on rules

Was sometimes tough.

We still thought a shoulder barge

Quite okay

And didn’t leave goalies

To have their own way.

‘Englander fussball’

Is what we would say.

They’d say ‘Deutschlander football’

And tug on your shirt.

We played against Germans

From miles around.

Aggrieved by that goal

And with scores to settle

The Germans were out

To test our mettle.

So I played for my country

And in a small way

I feel like part

Of that history.

Not quite through yet. Where will this end?

Summer of Sixty Six – Part Eleven

Time to forget the ‘argie bargie’

And move on to a match

That was far more worthy.

90,000 held in thrall

As England take on Portugal

England’s defence is sorely tested

But still that defence has not been bested.

Half an hour in

We mount an attack

And truth to tell

It starts from the back.

Wilson passes it forward to Hunt

A shot from him

Is stopped by the keeper

But Charlton’s there

To knock it back in.

The crowd noise swells

With waves of emotion

And ten minutes to go

We rise as one nation.

A shot from Peters

Gets charged down

But it’s Charlton again

Who hammers it home.

Three minutes later

And the other Charlton

Responds to a moment

Of sheer desperation.

As a header from Torres

Makes for the net

Big Jackie Charlton

Puts it out with his hand.

So Eusabio scored

With a penalty blast

And England’s defence

Is breached at last.

But the match was over

The game had been won

Time to bring

The Germans on!

Thanks for sticking with this. Building to our climax now…. And our cameo role in the saga.

Summer of Sixty Six – Part Ten

Next up for England was Portugal

And that phenomenal striker: Eusebio.

He was the winner of the golden boot

Nine goals through all the tournament.

He scored two goals against Brazil

Four  against Korea

Coming back from three nil down

To win the game 5-3.

So this was the team

That we would play next

What could we expect?

Who do you think will

End on top?

He just keeps scoring

Can we make him stop?

Summer Of Sixty Six – Part Five

Then it was France

And 2-0 again

Hunt with both goals

To help England win and

In case you’ve not noticed

They’d not let one in.

Two wins and a draw

So England are through

But the Germans are talking

Of Franz Beckenbaur.

Elsewhere some surprises

The Brazilians are out

The favourites are ousted.

We’re in with a shout.

The Italians, God Bless them

Why they’ve gone home too

1-0 North Korea

They’ll have to lie low.

Summer of Sixty Six – Part Four

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So it’s back to the football

Without more ado

To see what the white shirted

English will do.

 

Two  games from the knock outs

And much left to do

Who’ll be the heroes

To pull England through?

 

Next up are Mexicans

And Bobby Charlton

Holds sway.

2-0 to the English and

We’re on our way.

 

You’ll never believe me

But I’ll swear to this day

That his shot for the goal

Burst through our TV!

Summer of Sixty Six – Part Two

Rheindahlen was a school bus ride

The largest base around

But we were based at Wickrath then

With German neighbours round.

Just a few flats where we lived

Canadian and English

Not much to see or much to do

But kick a ball

And wriggle through

Imaginary defenders.

We’d play on any patch of ground

Back then kids were allowed to

So leave us on our make do pitch

And move on with the story

As I shift the scene to Wembley’s green,

And coming English glory.