I was a keen sportsman, and became school captain in soccer and cricket.
quote by John E. Walker
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Soccer and cricket were my main sports growing up. I had trials as a soccer player with a few clubs interested, Crystal Palace being one, but it was cricket which became my chosen profession.
quote by Ian Botham
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The National Game Of Australia
The National game of Australia is Australian Rules Football
And the Aussies who love their game say 'tis the greatest game of all
Soccer, Rugby Union and Rugby League and Cricket have their roots elsewhere
But no truer Aussie sportsman than an Aussie Rules footy player,
A game born on Australian soil it surely is Australia's own
And the legend of great footy players in their deaths has even grown
In September at the famed M C G in Melbourne on A F L Grand Final Day
Close to one hundred thousand people flock to watch Australia's best teams play
Though many like both codes of rugby and cricket and soccer a game that is played Worldwide
Australia's National game is Aussie Rules to many that's a source of pride
The National Game of Australia and it's great claim to fame
Is that it was born and bred in Australia and is the only true Australian Game
And it surely is a true Aussie as Aussie as can be
And though some others may like introduced games far better with what I say many would agree.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Ballad Of “Willie, Bar The Door.”
In the town of Limavady,
I would have you all to know,
William Cummings he was born
A true son of the Roe.
And in that lovely valley
Near to Benevenagh’s feet,
“Willie, bar the door” gave
Many a soccer treat…
For roared on by his public
Throughout the fair north west
This humble Irish sportsman
Put others to the test.
And sure ‘twas in his lifetime
A legend he became
One of the best defenders
In the skilful soccer game.
And many were his exploits-
Oh! far too many to relate!
For on and off the field of soccer
To serve others was his fate.
Alas, William now has left us
But his memory still lives on,
In the hearts of those who knew him
And who loved him as their own.
And sure whenever soccer’s played,
In public park or moor,
We of his generation
Will remember “Bar the door”.
poem by Liam ó Comáin
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Soccer
Soccer is the game
My life
Soccer gives my fame
it gives my life
Soccer is what make me live
soccer is what makes me give
soccer is the start of it all
soccer is way better then the mall
poem by Courtney Sycowski
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Today I am sixteen again
A statue stands at the gate
of the school,
marking a place of distinction
where children get the highest grades
in the country
play rugby, cricket
and golf at international level.
Today I am sixteen again
and have to go home
as the school has been closed
because of intimidation
by union thugs, from a union
to which the teachers here
do not belong.
Five minibus taxis’s stopped
in the school yard
and black adults got out,
threw bricks through windows,
set the rugby, hockey and soccer fields alight
by splashing gasoline
and the police do not intervene.
The principal is scared
about our safety
and although the teachers here
are not on strike,
school has been cancelled
and the country is going to the ground,
falling to pieces
while a union is striking.
poem by Gert Strydom
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In Europe, it's different - you eat soccer, you breathe soccer, you drink soccer. Everything is about soccer.
quote by Thomas Dooley
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Silver Treetop School For Boys
Heres the town in which I live petunia green
Heres the shop and heres the man who sold me laces for my shoes
There is mr.marcus. boys they say hes mad
heres the battle that they won silver treetop school for boys
Early days were good as gold
An apple here an apple there
And everywhere a yes sir, no sir
They made me roll the cricket pitch once a day
Ive never been so happy than at silver treetop school for boys
The mowing machine was leaving small piles of grass
That when the ? ? ? had risen to the pipe of mr.marcus
The smell of teaching fell upon the cricket field
Smiling, laughing, rolling about at silver treetop school for boys.
Hey there
They call in the staff room
They call in the canteen
Hey come and look at what I found
I found some boys and masters sitting
On the cricket ground at silver treetop school for boys
The english master, sir, he wores a purple mask
And the head, was usually sad, was swinging from a tree
Mr.brown the physics man is off his head
And everyone just loves the grass at silver treetop school for boys
Lalalalalalala lalala lalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalala
song performed by by David Bowie
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I Finally Had The Chance
I finally had the chance
To meet the soccer king in
Portugal after the
Soccer game that I went
To in the
Portuguese soccer stadium
While I visited
Lisbom
poem by Aldo Kraas
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We played soccer a lot with our friends and at school. We weren't on an official team or anything, but we'd definitely be up for it in gym or in after-school pickup games where we live.
quote by Mary-Kate Olsen
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My Hero Lives Much Nearer
If your hero is Steve Waugh the cricket player I must say that suits me fine
But I've heard enough about him since your hero isn't mine,
My hero lives much nearer his house is across the street
And his name is Jack Iversen a man I often meet.
If you want a favour done to Steve Waugh you can go
But in your moment of need you he would not wish to know,
You well may have his autograph on your cricket bat and ball
But I don't see that as a favour 'tis no big deal at all.
If I need a favour done on Jack I can depend
To many who have been in need he has proved himself a good friend
Without expecting any favours in return he will help you if he can
He's not out to 'feather his own nest' I like that sort of man.
My hero is in his seventies his hair is silvery gray
And for to help out other people he goes out of his way
And your's is a cricket player who enjoys widespread fame
And though you may have his autograph he doesn't know you by name.
Steve Waugh Australia's cricket captain is your hero a man you once briefly met
And he scribbled his name on your bat and ball something you won't forget
But my hero lives nearer he is just across the way
And he doesn't hog the headlines and I see him every day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Oh, My Captain
Oh, my Captain, my Captain
Where is that gleam in your eye?
Where is that sting
Whenever your colors fly?
Where is that thirst
for adventure you sail?
Where is that booming voice
Through oak will drive nail?
Oh, my Captain
Where could you be?
Thy gaze crosses
more than the sea
Where is the man
Who knows not any fears?
Who's cheated death
All these long years
Come Captain,
Where is thy cheer?
We sail into eternity
The rest is unclear
Oh Captain, oh Captain
Why such a sad soul?
It's treasure and loot
So much we have stole
Oh, master, my master
We are, and can no more be
Like the birds,
We are free as long as we breathe
Come Captain, my Captain
Give us command
Give 'weigh all the anchors'
Seek ye new harbors with warm golden sand
to Captain Cur
poem by Midnights Voice
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Game of Cricket
Cricket is a game of fun
Throughout the television is on,
Especially when Sachin and Sehwag are
Making run.
It is worth to watch cricket,
When Pathan brothers are taking wicket.
When Rohit is going out on zero,
Mahendra Singh Dhoni is declared as the hero.
When Tanveer and Gul are in fix,
Dhoni and Yuvraaj are hitting six.
When Raina is hitting a four,
Rival team can do nothing to check the score.
When by Harbhajan the ball is caught,
Entire team of opponent are in thought.
When there is a big target to chase,
Every player is enthusiastic to win the craze.
When Sehwag is double digit score,
Heart beat of every captain is increasing
More and more.
When salman Butt is dropping an easy catch,
Ishant and Sreesanth awarded man of the match.
So in short, cricket is a fun,
But only when India has won.
poem by Prabhudatta Kar
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Lonely Cricket
In the darkest hollow where
echo giants live,
a Lonely Cricket screams cowardly
in cold boots
Lonely Cricket gasps, hidden
in a musky capsule away from
eager steps
Lonely Cricket falls mute from
the trivial flirt of a monstrous tread
In that cave, Lonely Cricket cries –
spewing shards of gossip to cut
insomniac puppets
“O Lonely Cricket what bulbous grapes you have”
“dimmed reflections of your desolation”
May blind feet find you hermit –
a crusty delight of incarnate shell
Creak not your raspy venom
Lonely Cricket…
“For I too can spit”
poem by Phil de Lange
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Sporting Australia
Since Archer won the first two
Melbourne Cups in 1860 and 61
The Stawell Gift debuted in 1875
We beat England at cricket in 1877
Sport has played a major role
In our lifestyles and leisure time
Harrison and Wills down in Melbourne
Developed a football code in 1858
That became a national passion
Only fairies play aerial ping pong
Said the blokes from the north
Through broken teeth and noses
The Don, Sir Donald Bradman
Heads a list of batsmen
Who terrorised the World's best bowlers
Lillee and Thompson scared many openers
While Warnie mesmerised many others
As Australia ruled World cricket
Alan Bond put up the bucks
Ben Lexcen designed a winged keel
The Boxing Kangaroo was born
John Bertram a skilled captain
Together they wrestled the Auld Mug
Out of Newport for the first time
Immigration in the fifties
Brought many new things to Australia
One of these things saw men kicking a netball
Soccer was up against other codes
These migrants didn't care
They flocked to their games
Form the motherland they brought rugby
The game they play in heaven
A gentleman's game so they say
Flat noses and cauliflower ears
Was the only reward in union
For defending our honour Worldwide
Many sports have tried
Many sports have failed
Trying to lure Aussies
Away from cricket and football
It's hard to get a kid
Out of his dad's footsteps
A piece of wood and a ball
In a paddock park or backyard
A cricket match is born
So proud of our sporting history
Edwin Flack won gold in 1896
Yeah mate, we've been to all the games
poem by Phil Smith
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Cricket Is Just Another Game
Cricket just like baseball and football and golf is just another game
And though some great cricket players have won Worldwide fame
Cricket for most cricket fans like followers of all other sports
From their life cares is just an escape of sorts
The praises of sports celebrities millions every day do sing
And nowadays sports Worldwide is a huge thing
And those not in some way involved in sport a minority
At least that is how it does seem to me
I've got nothing against cricket I'd like to make that clear
Though on t v and radio so much of it to see and hear
Like every sport for millions of poor people I am aware
A temporary escape from their lives every care
And cricket after all is just another game
Like every other sport it is much the same.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Cricket
Reaching peak is a dream
Cricket is viamedia
To reach the peak
Cricket is a dream.
Reaching peak is a dream
Life is a dream
And dream comes true
Cricket is true.
Reaching peak is a dream
Dream is real
Pursue the dream
To enjoy life.
Reaching peak is a dream
Dream is cricket
Cricket sings the song
That enlightened life.
Reaching peak is a dream
Dream comes true
And in truth only
life becomes sincere and fluent.
Everything is cricket
And cricket that makes
both happy and sad
is the mixture that is life.
Life is cricket
Enjoy it
Sing it
And make hurrah.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Wicket Cricket Critic
If the cricket critics' nagging
Merits stern official gagging
Which I doubt
How would critical ascetics,
With their prosy homiletics,
Shut it out?
And the question then arises:
If more cricketing surprises,
Such as bodyline, begin to threaten cricket,
And another stunt, when sprung,
Call for clicking of the tongue,
Should a cricket critic critically click it?
When the barrackers grow lyric
In a manner most satiric
And profane,
How, one ventures still to wonder,
May the clamor be kept under?
How restrain?
For one barbaric larrik-
In can do a lot of barrack-
In', and cause a lot of worry at the wicket.
But would sportsmen be abusing
Cricket canons in refusing
To supply that cricket critic with a ticket?
As a critic analytic
Of the cricket critics' critic
I would say,
When we criticise their cricket,
Then the players have to stick it,
Come what may.
No specific soporific
May be used; for it is diffic-
Ult to strike a critic partly paralytic.
So there's nothing gained in seeking,
As I know; and I am speaking
As a critic of the cricket critic's critic.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Soccer
Soccer
Have you ever been on a soccer field?
Well if you haven't it’s the m amazing thing
It’s like being in heaven but on grass
When the grass is just cut and the potato bugs are jumping in the air it gives you energy to have fun
And if you have been on a field then you know how the freshly cut grass
stings your nose and enlightens your heart to give you extra strength to
play soccer harder than you ever have in your life. That is what it’s like being on a soccer field!
By: Isaiah Bess
poem by Isaiah Bess
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Soccer!
GOAL! SCORE! HORNS BLARING!
soccer fans blowing there horns, eating their food, jumping up and down, painted faces, soccer jerseys, foam fingers, hot blistering sun, fun.
soccer balls roll and fly across the field soaring though the air like a bird with no wings, black and white moving so fast.
soccer bleachers, sweating fans, crumbs of food left in the stands, bird and bees and hornets to fly all around looking for food.
GOAL! SCORE! HORNS BLARING! SOCCER!
poem by Katrina Stewart
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I Fail You
I fail you my friend
Because I promoside you that I would tought you how to play soccer
But I end up doing something else instead than helping you to learnhow to Play soccer and be a better soccer player in life
You have all the reason to be mad with me because I fail you and I let you Down also
So you see now that I can't even keep my world to you
poem by Aldo Kraas
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