A Fair Sized Elevation
The Stadium was ready for a thrilling floodlit game,
All the Fans were there, eager to give acclaim.
Out ran the teams, rearing to play their part,
Along with the Referee, who was anxious to start.
When all were prepared, the exciting scene was set,
Each side were hoping for goals inside their net.
At half-time though, not one single man had scored,
Something that to both sides couldn’t be ignored.
Then a silence fell, and eyebrows began to twitch,
What was that mound there, in the centre of the pitch.
A heap of earth was growing at a very rapid rate,
And a fair sized elevation was seen to accumulate.
A black nose peeped out from the heart of the soil,
Sniffing the air after a lot of sweat and toil.
For Mr Mole had chosen a very prestigious patch,
‘Right bang’ in the middle of a football match,
Everyone thought this was really quite absurd,
And were utterly amazed at what had occurred.
But in the end, the whole vast arena had to laugh,
For wrapped around his neck was a football scarf.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Related quotes
Little Jimmy's First Football Match
Jimmy just couldn't sleep
he was too excited for that
he hadn't felt like this
since he stroked a Meerkat.
His mother said as a treat
for being such a good lad
he could go to the football
on Saturday with his Dad.
His nan knitted him a scarf
in the colours of the team
and on the morning of the match
he was so happy he could scream.
So the big day had arrived
and off he went to the match
he sat with his dad in the stands
with a cup of tea and a batch.
This was Jimmy's first game
as he was only just seven
but sitting there with his Dad
he was in football heaven.
The match was brilliant
Jimmy's team scored four
and if it wasn't for their keeper
it would have been a lot more.
Jimmy's world changed that day
football was to become his life
as an adult it cost him a lot
eventually his long suffering wife.
So let this serve as a warning
football can be bad for your boy
so instead of taking him to a match
take him fishing or buy him a toy!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Know The Game Of Life
A rich man built up a stadium,
In a ground to play every game.
On the day of inauguration,
There was a big congregation.
It was a show of football match
A pleasure for them to watch
Both the teams played well
Kicking forward the football.
The rich man's father,
An illiterate old villager,
Who was the chief guest
Kept his face in utter disgust.
At the end he asked his son
Why each player wasn't given
A ball each to avoid their run
Between goals for that ball one?
A sorry figure, his son kept
At his father, a man ignorant
Of the rules of the game,
What a shame to his name?
Yes, knowledge is essential
For anyone to enjoy the thrill
Lest, in the game of life, he will
Be like a two legged bull.
poem by Rajaram Ramachandran
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Football
I'm a football baby,
Rollin' round the field.
I've been passed and fumbled,
Till I don't know what I feel.
Everybody's the same,
They're all footballs too.
Setting up the big play
And trying to score.
I'm a football baby
In a football game
I'm a football baby
Run--kick
Life's a football game,
As every chump and champ knows.
We don't touch, we collide,
Till we're worn out inside.
We're kicking each other,
Right where it hurts,
Setting up the big play,
And trying to score.
I'm a football baby,
In a football game
I'm a football baby,
I'm a football baby,
In a football game
I'm a football baby,
Block--pass
I'm a football baby,
In a football game
I'm a football baby,
Run---kick---hit---goal .
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm A Fan
It’s football season again
I hope my team does well this year
Football season again
I’m a fan
It’s football season again
Spread that ball across the field
Football season again
I’m a fan
Through the cold and the rain
I’ll be there at the game
A voice screaming to be heard
I’ll cry sometimes, sometimes I’ll smile
As my voice echoes through the crowd
I’m a fan, I’m a fan, I’m a fan
It’s football season again
I hope my team does well this year
Football season again
I’m a fan
It’s football season again
Tackle hard and play it fair
Football season again
I’m a fan
And at the end of the year
We’ll be dressed in the gear
As they turn to salute the crowd
And we’ll stand with pride
‘Cause they’re our side
And we’ll sing their praises loud
We’re the fans, We’re the fans, We’re the fans
Copyright Colin Coplin 2004 / 2010
poem by Colin Coplin
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Football fans are so fickle
I love my football
always have
and always will.
But I moan over prices
rather stand than sit
but still buy a season ticket.
I slag off our players
but clap and cheer
when they score
I'm a two faced fan.
Say to my mate
I'm not coming anymore
but I'm there the next game.
Join in shouting at the referee
calling him obscene names
but secretly thinking he's spot on.
Jolly banter with the away fans
in the pub before the games
but dislike them all inside the ground.
Us football fans are all the same
only happy when we are winning
but miserable when we're not.
Is fickleness contagious?
widespread at football grounds?
common only to the football fan?
poem by Kevin Halls
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Football A Way Of Life
Being a football fan is a way of life
it is constantly on one's mind
your thinking about the next match
while going about the daily grind.
Your talking about great goals
and a brilliant player from the past
telling anyone who's listening
that he was skilful and he was fast.
Your living and breathing football
you dream of it in your sleep
even though the team you support
can make you angry and make you weep.
You meet up with fellow football fans
in the pub before the big match
one group of like minded people
talking about football over pints and a batch.
Football on a Saturday is all that matters
nothing else can stand in it's way
all of life's worries are put on hold
while the football fan watches his team play.
poem by Kevin Halls
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Why Do You Love Football?
Why do you love football Kevin
what do you see in it?
why not watch another sport
like Rugby, Golf, or Cricket?
Well let me answer that my friend
and put your mind at rest
I love the beautiful game
because it's simply the best.
No other sport is as exciting
no other comes anywhere near
football has lots of passion
and can create a great atmosphere.
It is loved all around the world
most children kick a football
rich kids, and poor kids,
small kids, and some very tall.
Ask a lad what he wants to be?
a footballer I bet he will say
not a cyclist or a pole vaulter
a top swimmer no way!
A good football match is a real joy
that's why thousands go to every game
when you get goals and lots of action
the fans are so glad that they came.
So yes my friend I do love my football
it's the number one sport for me
so while your watching snooker and darts
I'll be cheering on my beloved Coventry.
poem by Kevin Halls
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Football A Game.
What a name called?
Football a game called,
To known arena called stadium,
Played eleven to eleven side to side each,
Formations of it kinds,
Aims of a two goal post net,
Aims of a trophy,
Aims of winning,
In a color Jersey of its kinds,
In a color booths of it kinds,
Side to side balls picking sons round,
Spectators sat rounding pitch watching,
Centered with a nominated referee officiating,
Lined with a two lines men flagged,
Officials of substitutions in questions,
Pronounced by named commentators,
Red and yellow cards rules in question,
Supported keys of volunteers,
Supported with all sorts of supporters,
Declared a stadium manager jobs,
Declared a team manager jobs,
Host the nations, Host the world,
At moment of a country designated!
At moment of a country authorized!
Called for all practitioners....
Photographers, Cinematography, Press, Medias, Adverts, Sponsors, critics, etc. centred.
What a name called?
Football! football! ! football! ! !
A rounded leather circled!
Circled in its color of its choices,
Declared fifa authorities,
Declared statistical over all game,
Respect covered face to face,
Stretchers officials in uniforms of its officials medications,
Football a game called,
With boots of its kinds worn,
Saddled a whole lot supporters,
Saddled a whole lot analysts,
Presumption for a nation's glory,
Preemptive individuals' desirably for survival,
Football a game called,
Called to the passionate in spirit,
Football a game called,
Embrace understanding to unnamed,
Embrace love to unloved,
Embrace unity to diversities,
Embrace creativity to un-creativity,
Football a game called,
Adore a nature,
Football a game called,
Called to a glorious home,
Football a game called,
A rounded leather circled!
With boots of its played,
With jersey of its kinds,
With choices of many kinds,
Football a game called.
poem by Bunmi Orogun Samuel
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The AFL Football
He was exactly like his famous Dad
When he was all stitched up
Of this fact he was very glad
His father had a special role in the 2005 premiership cup
Don't laugh when I tell you
This story is very true
He was a football; Aussie made
With anyone else, he wouldn't ever trade
Of his father he was very proud
Cheer cheer roared the crowd
It was a moment that would certainly go
Down in sporting history; this for sure he did know
Leo Barry; what a mark indeed
All the Sydney Swans fans agreed
The sea of red and white
What a glorious sight
He only wished that he could have been there
With him, all of his special memories; his Dad always did share
In a game a football is an important part
Of it all; this is the heart
Without a football, there'd be no game
Which of course would be a crying shame
Thousands of people travel to the A N Z Stadium or S C Ground
To see a football thrown or kicked around
Everyone gets excited to see
The game being played passionately
The moment that is above the rest
Is when Adam Goodes passes every test
To kick the winning goal
He plays with his heart and soul
The football's father at last did retire
To always be like him; was his son's desire
AFL is at the top of every sports fan's game list
Never ever to be missed
poem by Rose Angel H
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The Football Fan
They love their football team
their loyalty is never in doubt
they rarely ever miss a match
from the stands they scream and shout.
Even when the teams playing poor
and their favourite player is off key
that will never stop them from going
as the ground is where they want to be.
Football is always on their minds
they think about it night and day
non football fans think they must be crazy
watching men kicking a ball home and away.
Relationships can become strained and tense
as football takes the leading role
partners can become irritable and even jealous
when the fan talks for hours about a wonder goal.
The fan even dreams of football in their sleep
shouting out and butting the pillow with their head
they jump up and down as if they've scored a goal
and kick their partner out of the bed.
Yes the football fan is a breed apart
slightly eccentric and a thick skinned soul
when all that matters to them in life
is seeing their favourite player score a winning goal!
poem by Kevin Halls
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A poem for Football lovers
Football can make you cry
it can also bring you joy
I've played and watched it
as a man and a small boy.
Football has great players
like the one and only Messi
the Argentinian is a genius
I wished he played for Coventry.
Football is the favourite sport
no other game comes anywhere near
in the U.K.it's the number one pastime
just beating fishing and drinking beer.
Football though can be an addiction
it can be on your mind all of the day
your thinking about goals, shots, and saves,
and even talking about it to God when you pray.
So long may Football be played on our planet
even though it has trouble along the way
but just think if there was no Football at all
us fans would have nothing to do on a Saturday!
poem by Kevin Halls
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A New Football Season
The new football season is here once again
fans hoping for a winning campaign ahead
supporters will be proudly wearing their colours
in grounds you'll see Blue, White, Black, and Red.
But the Olympics will be a tough act to follow
as it's been the best one for so many years
all the athletes gave it one hundred per cent
giving it lots of blood, sweat, and tears.
Football was once known as a working class game
until alas money reared it's ugly head
now players earn huge amounts of cash
and it's become a sport of affluence instead.
But when you love football it's in the blood
even though it's changed so much over the years
but there's just something about a matchday
the banter, watching a game, and having some beers.
So bring on the opening match of the new season
and I hope I leave with a big smile on my face
but a football campaign is tough and very long
so I'm fit for a marathon and not a sprint race!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Fur And Feathers
The emus formed a football team
Up Walgett way;
Their dark-brown sweaters were a dream
But kangaroos would sit and scream
To watch them play.
'Now, butterfingers,' they would call,
And suck-like names;
The emus couldn't hold the ball
They had no hands, but hands aren't all
In football games.
A match against the kangaroos
They played one day.
The kangaroos were forced to choose
Some wallabies and wallaroos
That played in grey.
The rules that in the west prevail
Would shock the town;
For when a kangaroo set sail
An emu jumped upon his tail
And fetched him down.
A whistler duck as referee
Was not admired.
He whistled so incessantly
The teams rebelled, and up a tree
He soon retired.
The old marsupial captain said,
'It's do or die!'
So down the ground like fire he fled
And leaped above an emu's head
And scored a try.
Then shouting, 'Keep it on the toes!'
The emus came.
Fierce as the flooded Bogan flows
They laid their foemen out in rows
And saved the game.
In native bear and Darling pea
They dined that night:
But one man was an absentee:
The whistler duck, their referee,
Had taken flight.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Erb
Do you know 'Erb? Now, there's a dinkum sport.
If football's on your mind, why, 'Erb's the sort
To put you wise. It's his whole end and' aim.
Keen? He's as keen as mustard on the game.
Football is in his blood. He thinks an' schemes
All through the season; talks of it an' dreams
An' eats an' sleeps with football on his mind.
Yes: 'Erb's a sport - the reel whole-hearted kind.
'A healthy, manly sport.' That's wot 'Erb says.
You ought to see his form on football days:
Keyed up, reel eager, eyes alight with joy,
Full of wise schemes for his team to employ.
Knows all about it - how to kick a goal,
An' wot to do if they get in a hole.
Enthusiasm? Why, when 'Erb gets set
He is a sight you couldn't well forget.
There ain't a point about it he don't know
All of the teams and players, top to toe.
The rules, the tricks - it's marvellous the way
He follers - Wot? Good Lord, no, he don't play.
'Erb? Playin' football? Blimey! have a heart!
Aw, don't be silly. 'Erb don't have to play;
He knows more than them players any day.
He's never had a football in his hand,
'Cept once, when it was kicked up in the stand.
No, 'Erb ain't never played; he only sits
An' watches 'em, an' yells, an' hoots and splits
His sides with givin' mugs some sound advice
An' tellin' umpires things wot ain't too nice.
Aw, look; your ejication ain't complete
Till you know 'Erb. You reely ought to meet.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Eleven rules of football
I took my little boy
to a nearby football pitch
He said he was tired
of playing hide and seek
He now wanted a football
to play around and kick
As he clutched my hand
I spoke to him
and tried to make him understand
the eleven rules of football
taking into consideration
that he was quite small
Now rule number one
Football is made of eleven strong men
When one or two are naughty
you may still get away
with playing nine or ten
Rule number two
When a member of your crew
hits the ball into the net
A goal is scored
that I can place a bet
For I am very sure
Rule number three
The maximum number of players
you can substitute is three
It does not cost a dime
It is totally free
Rule number four
There are rules you must comply with
When a team commits an offense
named a foul
before the game can commence
A small advantage has to be given
to the otherside
Rule number five
A freekick
is given after a foul
Sometimes awarded after
unnecessary dives
Rule number six
When you are shown a card that is yellow
Its time for your temper to mellow
or you will get the referee quite mad
and he will dismiss you with a red card
Rule number seven
A penality is like heaven
It is awarded
when a player breaks the rule
maybe by using his hand as a tool
to play the ball inside the penalty box
its time for him to go back to school
Rule number eight
A thrownin
Is when the ball is kicked out of the field
It's one of footballs favorite sins
Rule number nine
Offside is
When you are the only one running
alone to score a winning goal
you must hesitate
till you see a single soul
Rule number ten
A game lasts
for ninety minutes
You are beat
When your team has less goals than the other
That is when you must admit defeat
Rule number eleven
when your team is losing
you have to sing something amusing
saying
All we want is a goal
While we are dressed in coloured charcoal
Now my little boy
I said
These are the eleven rules of football
lets go and practise inside the sports hall
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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The Football Jock And The Cheerleader
Football jocks- they allow nothing to get in their way
Girls hearts they’d break every day.
What is a heart? But tissue and mass.
They’ll get over it, it will pass.
Life is a game and we play it to our best
If girls can’t cope then give it a rest.
Love is like football and it has
many tactics that we must learn
and along the way people get burned.
They tend to dropp their hearts
and it shatters on the ground
But someone will pick up the pieces
Whatever could be found.
We are the jocks with one goal in mind
“ to win” every turn and every time.
We are the cheerleaders of the team
We get the fans to jump and scream.
We give you guys moral support
With out us your fans would abort.
You think because you’re football jocks
That all the women s clocks must stop.
Well! We have a surprise for you
Without us you wouldn’t know what to do.
As for our hearts shattering on the ground
My friend! You better turn and look around.
You see! LOVE IS NOT! A football game
And no heart remains the same
You are about to get your dues
For we know exactly what to do.
You may be great on the football field
But our hearts, you will not steal.
You can not get in our heads
nor can you get us in your beds.
poem by Louis Rams
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Maradona, Maradona, Maradona…
This poem is dedicated to worldwide football fans.
Your left foot had the power
Of a great painter’s brush,
You made the football
To talk to your
Body’s changing moves.
Defenders all over the world
Tried to scare you, tackle you, fowl you,
Could they snatch your external body part,
A football?
You moved like a white lighting
In the dark cloud of opponent's defense;
Other strikers saw opponent's goal post,
You aimed to shoot there,
There was one word that fed you
In your entire football career –
Goal, goal, goal.
Not only Argentine fans
But football lovers worldwide
Were crazy because of you,
You were crazy for them, too.
You risked and sacrificed your body
For the enjoyment of millions of fans
Who saw unarguably best skills of
Dribbling and body movement
In entire football arena.
Some say, you are the football God,
Some say, you are the prince of football,
I say, you are a tiger
In white and Indigo stripes...
poem by Biswajit Ganguly
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The smells of Football
Football has it's own smells
from the grass on the pitch
to the aroma from the Hot Dog stalls.
In the dressing room there's sweat
strong odour coming from ointments
being rubbed into aching muscles.
On the terraces you smell beer
years ago there was tobacco too
on Boxing Day the whiff of cigar smoke.
As a boy my mothers washing powder
making my kit smell nice and fresh
and getting rid of mud and grass stains.
The smell of leather of a new pair
of football boots and new ball
and layers of thick black polish.
At the half-time break in a match
onto the field came a large tray
full of sweet smelling and tasty Oranges.
These are the smells of Football
the odours of the Beautiful game
and for some the sweet smell of success.
poem by Kevin Halls
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Tense And Nervous At The Match
Massive game today
butterflies in my stomach
can feel my heart beating
beads of sweat on my brow.
But I'm not even playing
I'm just a loyal supporter
but we need the win so much
a fan who loves his football club.
The referee has blown his whistle
our fans are singing and chanting
the away fans are singing as well
they need three points as much as us.
The game is swinging to and fro
they have hit the post and so have we
then with five minutes till half time
they are awarded a dodgy penalty.
Our keeper tries to put the taker off
he jumps up and down on his line
he strikes it hard to the goalies left
the keeper alas dives to his right instead.
One down at the interval it's off to the bar
us fans moaning about the dreadful decision
then after a pint it's back to the stands
to start cheering on our team once again.
We go on the attack right from the start
our striker bangs one on to their bar
then we get a bit of luck at last
the referee has given us a dodgy penalty.
There keeper jumps up and down on his line
but our taker stands with hands on hips
then cooly trots up and hits it to the right
there keeper dives down to his left.
One all now with ten minutes to go
us fans are going crazy getting behind the team
then we all end up hugging and leaping about
because our striker has smacked it in the net.
The ref blows his whistle it's the end of the game
we all stand and clap our beloved team off
it's off to the pub for a great night out
it feels so good when your team gets a win!
poem by Kevin Halls
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A Memory From 85
I've always thought that Gaelic Football was a grand and a sporting game
But after witnessing a match between Rockchapel and Kiskeam
Played in the Gaelic Playing Field half a mile from Knocknagree
The uglier side of Gaelic Football was all brought home to me.
'Twas Duhallow B league final on an evening in July
And with little to enthuse about for a neutral such as I
A scrappy game of football and the language it was crude
And both sets of supporters were mouthing loud and rude
And I watched on in silence and I could not feel amused
When a linesman by an old Rockchapel mentor was abused
And one could feel the tension rising and things were boiling to a brawl
And 'twould not be a night for sportsmanship or classical football.
And worse was to come later and an ugly sight to see
A young Rockchapel player assaulting the referee
And when he received his marching orders and refused to leave the field
The ref to intimidation rightly refused to yield.
The ref blew the final whistle with Kiskeam to the fore
They had won a tarnished victory by a mere five points to four
In a brutal game of football they'd survived a gruelling test
But at kicking and at mouthing they had come out second best.
'Twas a sad night for Gaelic Football and Duhallow's night of shame
And I'm not pardoning Kiskeam they must partly share the blame
But for a cup and set of medals and with little else at stake
For their attitude and thuggery Rockchapel took the cake.
The ref's motor van was interfered with and a door lock it got broke
By a wild man from Rockchapel a half crazed gray haired bloke
And this rowdy behaviour over a game of ball
It's no wonder I felt sickened fairly sickened by it all.
I've always thought that Gaelic football did not have an ugly side
That the players and spectators on their native game took pride
But now I know quite different and I see things differently
Since that Duhallow local derby game that was played in Knocknagree.
poem by Francis Duggan
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