En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Best Of The Best

Belfast born with magic feet,
Playing ball on cobbled street.
Something with him dwelt,
Something special he felt.

Spotted playing about,
By a Man'U scout.
Telegram was sent,
'I think I've found a genius', it went.

Fifteen years of age,
On the threshold of the national stage.
On his seventeenth birthday,
For the first team, he was to play.

Rave after rave review,
Of his debut.
Slight of frame,
Didn't hinder his game.
Flashes of his lightening speed,
Yes with the ball, at times greed.
The crowds he would enthral,
Extraordinary feats with the ball.

For years he excited terraces,
Putting smiles on faces.
He left a lasting legacy,
'Best player in the World', said no other than‘Pele'.

01/09/92 GUY LIPMORE.

poem by Guy Lipmore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The greatest goal of all time

I've seen lots of great goals
some to take your breath away
I recall one from many years ago
that has stayed with me to this day.
The player had the ball at his feet
cutting through the defence like a sword
beating player after player with ease
the whole ground stood to applaud.
I've witnessed individual goals
and some created by most of the team
but the greatest one I've ever seen?
was by myself in a beautiful lucid dream.
I was playing for England against Brazil
the crowd was roaring out my name
it was the World Cup Final at Wembley
two all with a minute left in the game.
I then tackled and robbed Pele of the ball
and I went on a long and mazy run
it ended with me hitting home the winner
'What a goal' read the headline in the Sun.
I lifted up the Jules Rimet Trophy
got carried round the pitch shoulder high
but when Pele said my goal was the greatest
I just fell to my muddy knees to cry.
It's been said that dreams can come true
and that's a saying I know to be right
because that 'dream' goal I scored at Wembley
was voted best ever goal on the telly last night!

poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kick Off Ball

Kick off ball,
Kick the ball to win the game!
But, with fair play.
Player,
Lyricist,
Arranger,
Keeper,
Composer,
Winner! !
But it was only yesterday that i found you;
And like the game ball in the land of your muse.
Face to face,
Again and again!
But pay and take it;
And, play the match to win the game! !
Play the ball,
Kick the ball,
And like the African Cup of Nations!
Race, ace, face, brace, mace, place, lace;
But words are things upon a thought,
And like something long lost! !
However, play the ball into the net to win the game.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rave Un2 The Joy Fantastic

Rave un2 the joy fantastic - rave
Rave un2 the joy fantastic - rave
World full of lovers, city full of good times - rave
Dont go undercover, I can get u out of your mind - come on - rave
All you need is a good walk and a brand new position
Then we can spread the real soul, doin it like a mission (rave) - rave
Oh, rave un2 the joy fantastic - rave
Everybody, rave un2 the joy fantastic - rave
Arrividerci cock poppy, that was hip yesterday - rave
New thing hitting where it feel good, what did u say? - rave
Tell me all: aint that a bomb? mack daddy aint got no gun - rave
Everybody got a new thing, new fun - scandalous - rave
Ooh, uve got 2 - rave un2 the joy fantastic - rave
Everybody, rave un2 the joy fantastic - rave - ooh yeah oh
Come on, sugar
Rave
Take a look inside your mind
Sister got a sizzler on, (know she 2 hot) ooh - know she 2 hot (rave) - rave
Brutha playing an apache scarf
Gaultier - stop (oh-oh)
Ooh, ifhad a dollar 4 every time they smiled
Id sho nuff jump and holla
Cuz Id sho nuff be rich a while - rave
Everybody rave
(rave un2 the joy fantastic) - ooh rave {2x}
Ooh

song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Meat Ball

(l. singer-h.zaret)
The little man walked up and down
To find an eating place in town
He read the menu through and through
To see what fifteen cents could do
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, he could afford but one meat ball
He told the waiter near at hand
A simple dinner he had planned
The guests were startled one and all to hear
That waiter loudly call
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, this here gent wants one meat ball
Little man felt very bad
One meat ball was all he had
And in his dreams he hears that call
Ya gets no bread with one meat ball
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, you get no bread with one meat ball
Well, he could afford but one meat ball
One meat ball, one meat ball
All he could afford was one meat ball
One meat ball

song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don’t know if God plays ball

I don’t know if God plays ball

soccer or foosball or bacci ball.
Well, I’m a Frenchman and
boules is the name of my game.

Being on the ball is like playing
with Gigi little girls. When God
created Eve I wonder did He

have in mind dirty old men
and did He mean putting man
behind the eight ball

and did He know that eons later
round the corner of the square ball
someone hooks up with

a hooded guy who sells 3.5 grams
of meth and coke and damn,
that 8 ball is already gone!

I wish I had another!
I start singin’ a tune, I don't drink
brass monkey, like to be funky

and my name ain’t Eazy-E
your 8 ball junkie.
We did an eight ball of blow and

danced until next morning.
I ain’t never goin’ out
With an eight-ball Chiquita

Cuz I got balls and I ain’t
givin’ her mine and
she ain’t playin’ with mine.

I wish God had more balls
and my brain marinate
in mothballs.

~~~
Alex Nodopaka Aug©2010
AD Something

poem by Alex Nodopaka
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God's miracle

Say not
That this is just a game.
As I watch the little boys play
After a heavy school day
He goes straight to the field,
And there he is in his element
Raising up the dust
As he scores that goal.

Say not
That this is just a game.
As the boys make their football
Collecting plastic from the dumps
And cutting ropes that were washing lines.
As the boys create a pitch
Or just play on the road,
They take sticks or stones
And they build a goal.

Say not
That this is just a game.
As these boys return home at night
Return to be whipped after their delight
The ball will be smashed,
The plastic seperated from the rope
And the field will be taken.
To the farmers and goat herders it will be given
But the boys collect themselves, with undying determination
And they go back to playing football.

Say not
That this is just a game.
As the scout sees that young player
And he is sent to England
Maybe he will play with Man U or maybe Inter.
He sees a world far from home
From sunny rays to raindropp beats.

Say not
That this is just a game.
As that girl plays on the boy's team
She raises rumours,
As people see her and say she will not marry
She drops her bucket of water and goes to be goalie.
The boys boo and make fun of her
But they know she is a very good player.
And she is an example to other little girls
Who long for that ball and not for pearls.

Say not
That this is just a game.
As old men sleep in bars
Just so they can see that match
Of their favourite English team,
And when they reach home their angry wives will ask
'What will that team give you if they win? '
The men will go to bed silent
But their minds know the answer
'They will give me pride, and honour.'

Say not
That this is just a game.
As the world cup starts
Linking whole nations.
And in that stadium
There is no such thing as rich, poor, colour or religion.
Because everybody will mix
As they go to cheer their country,
And their players from Eto'o to Messi.

Say not
That this is just a game.
When that player has the ball
At the box for a penalty
And it is the finale
When all hearts will stop.
And all breaths are held.
And when that goal is scored,
Each cheer is louder than the next
Every person with smiles so big
Both in the stands and on the field
There stand a connection of confusion,
But also true happiness.

Say not
That this is just a game.
When the team will hold that cup
And the whole country becomes a champion
Every man, every woman, and all the children.
It's name goes down in history
And it will be known as a cup holding nation.

Say not
That this is just a game.
No, this is football.
This is God's miracle,
To that little boy and girl
To that man who knows the answer
To not one but all,
And to you and me as well

Say not
That this is just a game.
For this, this is football!

poem by Mariam de Haan
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The Greatest

Little boy, in a baseball hat stands in the field with his ball and bat.
Says, "I am the greatest player of them all" puts his bat on his shoulder and he tosses up his ball.
And the ball goes up and the ball comes down swings his bat all the way around
The world so still you can hear the sound, the baseball falls to the ground.
Now the little boy doesn't say a word, picks up his ball, he is undeterred.
Says, "I am the greatest there has ever been" and he grits his teeth and he tries it again.
And the ball goes up and the ball comes down swings his bat all the way around
The world so still you can hear the sound, the baseball falls to the ground.
He makes no excuses, he shows no fear, he just closes his eyes and listens to the cheers.
Little boy, he adjusts his hat, picks up his ball, stares at his bat
Says,"I am the greatest, the game is on the line" and he gives his all one last time.
And the ball goes up and the moon so bright, swings his bat with all his might
The world's as still, as still can be, the baseball falls and that's strike three.
Now it's suppertime and his momma calls, little boy starts home with his bat and ball.
Says, "I am the greatest, that is a fact, but even I didn't know I could pitch like that!"
Says, "I am the greatest,that is understood, but even I didn't know I could pitch that good!

song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My soccer team

I see men standing next to each other
in a line
and they wear yellow and green.

The national anthem plays
and its like nobody honours it
or know the words,
but maybe they are caught by the great moment.

The whistle blows
and the ball is kicked to and fro
and there are men attacking
and others that defend.

The goal is open
and the ball flies past in a wide arc
and it’s as if my team
can’t score any goal.

The opponents have the ball
and shoot it right over the field
and one of their front players
hits it with his head.

The ball flies twisting
and with a swing in the air
and is accurately aimed at the goal

As from the ground
the goalie rises
and the onlookers are silent
and just before it’s too late,
the ball is caught
and the crowd cheers.

It is as if something sweeps into
the men with yellow and green
and they play perfectly,
like only a good team can.

There’s passion to win
and the ball is passed
from player to player
and a mighty kick,
launches it accurately past the goalkeeper
to get entangled in the net.

The crowd cheers and go nuts
and vuvezelas are blowing
and flags are swept to and thro
and the players grab each other.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Look At The State Of You!

Jumpers down for goalposts
using a plastic ball
playing out in all weather
only stopping at nightfall.
No replica kits on display
No gloves on our hands
No rings or earrings
No girlie Alice Bands.
Covered from head to toe in mud
getting dark score fifteen all
cuts and bruises no shin pads
playing on with punctured ball.
I nod home the winning goal
and we'll all be back next day
'look at the state of you ' shouts Mum
Dad smiles, that'show he used to play.
Back then there wasn't much health and safety
And we weren't ruled by a nanny state
we just had lots of fun playing soccer
which to us football mad lads was great!

poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I started playing ball when I was a kid. My dad was a pro ball player and he passed on his knowledge to me.

quote by Kurt Russell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Boyhood Sporting Hero

Most boys have their sporting heroes and mine played Gaelic Football
The mighty Mick O Connell the greatest I recall
But Mick O played for Kerry and Cork my favourite team
And to play football good as him was many school boy's dream

The finest Gaelic Footballer that I have ever seen
Not rough or hard in any way but classical and clean
And though that was many years ago and far so far away
Of great player from Valentia the memory with me stay.

When Mick O's playing days were over he faded from the scene
But memories of his playing feats will remain evergreen
His high fielding and kicking and his passing of the ball
The complete Gaelic Footballer the greatest of them all.

He never hogged the limelight he seemed so quiet and shy
But he was sporting hero to many school going boy
And even many who did not support Kerry will still tell you today
That Valentia's Mick O Connell was the best they had seen play.

My hero played for Kerry and Cork my favourite team
And to be good a player as him an early teenage dream
But as a Gaelic Footballer I never made the grade
And I won't be remembered for any game I played.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fighting The Odds

It was a wet fall day.
Leaves falling off the trees as if they were helicopters landing on the ground.
I was on my way to me final soccer game of the season.
I was not sure if I would be playing or not because my temperature was 100 degrees.
My head felt like a 100 pound weight pushing me to the ground.
But I had to play because I had started every game in goal and I was just not able to let my team down on the undefeated season and the division title.
I was dizzy and felt like I was just been pushed around on a spinner at the local park. It was a feeling that I will never forget, it has been 5 years and I still remember this feeling.
The referee blew the whistle to show that the game was over after the 70 minutes of harsh play.
My team was as happy as winning a lottery!
After the game we took a team photo by the goal with everyone one holding up one finger to show that we are number one.
Everyone was as excited as can be because our team was not expected to do this well this season.
In the ending I had to have brain surgery because I had a rare sickness called encephalitis.
But it was worth playing in the rain playing a game I will never forget.

poem by Nick Jumic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lets Have A Ball

(bunn)
I wanna ball like I never did ball before [before, before, before]
I wanna ball like I never did ball before [before, before, before]
I may never get a break like this in life no more
Well, I wanna ball like I never did ball before [before, before, before]
I wanna ball like I never did ball before [before, before, before]
I may never get a break like this in life no more
Got money in my pocket
I aint begging for bread
Cadillac el dorado
Well, its gone to my head
I got a short time living and a long greasy time to pay (play) dead
Aint doing no favours, aint asking for none
Honey, I got money, I can pay for my fun
Thats the way I want it, thats the way it must be done
[because]
I wanna ball like I never did ball before [before, before, before]
I wanna ball like I never did ball before [before, before, before]
I may never get a break like this in life no more
A certain little mama [you ? ? ? ? for me]
Gonna jump and shout [oh, yeah]
When the el dorado rolls up [ ah]
And Ill come walking out [? ? ? ]
Gonna tell ya pretty baby [say you like nothing]
You dont know what its all about
(Ive got) no special woman [no special woman]
Want no special friend [no special friend]
Want a good time today [good time today]
Tomorrow may be down again [may be down again]
Dont dial my number [oh, lord]
Ill tell you when [Ill tell you when]
I wanna ball like I never did ball before [before, before, before]
Really wanna...never did ball before [before, before, before]
I may never get a break like this in life no more

song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Obsessed With Football(Soccer)

When the feet kiss the ball,
for all tackles u make,
divine is the feel,
for FOOTBALL is the game,

hell lot of energy,
but passion it demands,
to master the game,
& have its command,

There it goes, into the net,
with a slight li'l bend,
all celebrate, and u get it all,
what all you commend,

with all your strength,
you embrace the ball,
and your timely interception,
saves the GOAL! ! ! ! ! ,

completely exhausted of the effort,
yet, you make the run,
coz the feel of the BALL is gr8,
and feeling it is gr8 fun,

what all it means,
only, a fanatic understands,
no matter whether he is playing,
or is sitting in the stands,

Abhi plays Beckham,
Gopi is Carlos,
Rambo is Maradonna,
and on..., the feel goes...

we have it in our blood,
we have it in our soul,
so are we,
OBSESSED WITH FOOTBALL......

(dedicated to the most beautiful game i have ever played....... I m lovin it.......)

poem by Abhineet Sharma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let Me Play Football

Let me run on the field
Of a crowded football stadium,
The ball is sticky to my leg,
Let the opponent’s defenders to come.

Let me head the ball with full force,
When my team player does a corner kick,
I want to place the ball in opponent’s net,
That’s an honour more than climbing Everest’s pick.

Let my team’s footballers hug me,
When I score a world class goal,
And I shall preserve my supporters’ celebration
Forever in my golden soul.

poem by Biswajit Ganguly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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World Cup Dream

I don’t have a world cup dream
But I love to play Football
I don’t have the master technique
But all for the good of my team

Food ball + food ball + food ball
This word is my life
Sweating and passing the ball
Running fast and finding that opportune hole
As a result, we can say “Goal”

poem by Rajan Thapaliya
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Croquet by Moonlight

On a moonlight evening, in the month of May,
A number of young people were playing at croquet,
They mingled together, the bashful with the gay,
And had a pleasant time and chat, while playing at croquet.

CHORUS:

This play they call croquet, croquet,
This play they call croquet,
It is amusement for the young,
This play they call croquet.

On that pleasant evening, the moon shone clear and bright,
And every heart among that crowd was filed with great delight.
It was a merry party, for lady Dell was there
Her merry laugh above the rest was heard by all, so fair.

CHORUS: This play, etc.

She was the belle that evening, admired by great and small,
And all the boys liked to play with the girl and blue ball.
She was a splendid player, so lively and so gay,
For she was skilled in playing that pleasant game croquet.

CHORUS: This play, etc.

Two young men among them, that loved this pretty Dell;
Although I write about them, their names I will not tell.
They were fine young fellows, so bashful, and yet so gay;
They tried to beat the girl that with the blue ball play.

CHORUS: This play, etc.

Ah! with those handsome fellows, Dell thought she'd have some fun,
"The one of you that'll catch me, may see me safely home."
The play began in earnest, between those fine young men,
To catch the girl with the blue ball, was impossible for them.

CHORUS: This play, etc.

She went around the play-ground, so full of life and gay,
She left them at the farther arch, so she beat them at croquet.
It was late that evening, and as I went away,
I know not how they came out, in that pleasant game, croquet.

CHORUS: This play, etc.

So croquet by moonlight is pleasant, as you see,
For business cares were laid aside, in that little company.
So playing at croquet, croquet, so playing at croquet,
It is amusement for the young folks, this play of croquet.

poem by Julia A Moore
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Golf-Slow Torture by Handicap

Golf is such a silly game
The less you play it-The greater the fame
But not alas for your average punter
Who stalks the long grass, more like a hunter.
He really isn't playing at all
Half the time he's looking for his ball.
Head always moving(if not hanging in shame)
The ball stays still, so the players to blame.
As more and more strokes we amass
Mainly playing from the longest grass
Temper flaming and words quite blue!
Are you sure this is the game for you?
The just one shot, that you do not thin
And look! Your nearest the pin
Bringing the fame that you seek
Ensuring your return, and the dream
That you will do better - next week!!!

poem by Keith Oldrey
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To Greet, Meet And To Brag

My eyes never left the ball.
Afterall...
I became disciplined to keep my focus on it.
And when I joined on the field with others,
Who made claims they came with aims to play...
In a way to prove with me they could complete.
My eyes never left the ball to reach.

My eyes never left the ball not at all.
And when it was thrown in the air others stared.
But my eyes were right there to catch it...
To run with it and score a goal.
I came on the field prepared to win.
Not to say I just came to play.
Like others who came just to huddle.

My eyes never left the ball. afterall...
I did not come to greet, meet nor to brag,
With embellished exaggerations...
Of what I could do or had done in my past.
My eyes never left the ball...they couldn't.
And I was there on the field to win not pretend,
I came just to play to socialize and go away.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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For Ball

At home
my dog and child
play the foot ball
Dog kick the ball

Clild also kick
Ball was...
Run to run...
Suddnley dog

Bite the ball
The ball was blast...
Chil was cry
Dog was wow...wow...!

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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