Related quotes: Meet in the pub have...

On Matchdays

Meet in the pub
have a few beers
banter with away fans
wind each other up.
Make way to the ground
soak up the atmosphere
quick flick through the programme
clap the players onto the pitch.
A half time pint and pie
chat about the game
then back to your seat
hug your mate, just scored.
Gutted a late equaliser
but hold on for a draw
some boo, some clap
back to the pub.
Have a few beers
banter with away fans
wind each other up
shake hands,
'safe journey home '

poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Under Pressure'

Back Chat Back Chat
You burn all my energy
Back Chat Back Chat
Critising all you see
Back Chat Back Chat
Analysing what I say
And you always get your way
Oh yeah see what you've done to me
Back Chat Back Chat
You're driving me insane
It's a battle to the end, knock you down you
come again
Talk back, talk back you've got me on the rack
Twisting every word I say
Wind me up and get your way
Fat chance I have of making a romance
If I'm ever to get the last word in
Take it from there
Twisting every word I say
Wind me up and get your way
Back Chat Back Chat
You burn all my energy
Back Chat Back Chat
Critising all you see
Back Chat Back Chat
Analysing what I say
And you always get your way
Wake up stand up and drag yourself on out
Get down get ready
Scream and shout
Back off be cool
And learn to change your ways
Back Chat Back Chat
Back Chat Back Chat
Back Chat Back Chat
Back Chat Back Chat
Back Chat Back Chat
Back Chat Back Chat
Back Chat Back Chat
Back Chat Back Chat
Back Chat Back Chat

song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Back Chat

Back chat back chat
You burn all my energy
Back chat back chat
Critising all you see
Back chat back chat
Analysing what I say
And you always get your way
Oh yeah see what youve done to me
Back chat back chat
Youre driving me insane
Its a battle to the end, knock you down you
Come again
Talk back, talk back youve got me on the rack
Twisting every word I say
Wind me up and get your way
Fat chance I have of making a romance
If Im ever to get the last word in
Take it from there
Twisting every word I say
Wind me up and get your way
Back chat back chat
You burn all my energy
Back chat back chat
Critising all you see
Back chat back chat
Analysing what I say
And you always get your way
Wake up stand up and drag yourself on out
Get down get ready
Scream and shout
Back off be cool
And learn to change your ways
Back chat back chat
Back chat back chat
Back chat back chat
Back chat back chat
Back chat back chat
Back chat back chat
Back chat back chat
Back chat back chat
Back chat back chat

song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Uncle Eric

'Two beers or not two beers? '
Joked my uncle, -
He was an alcoholic.

He died at 73,
Not bad for someone
Who'd wrecked his marriage
And career, and alienated
His family.

Two beers or not two beers?
That was the question!

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Girl Like That

Were goin out tonight
New shelltones with blue stripes
My braves cap to the side
Painted blue levis
The club hops off at 10
But we wont be there then
Gotta stop at in-and-out
And get a #3
But hold the onions please
Pullin up to the valet
Though I hate to be that way
But a playas gotta play
And v.i.p.
Which girls are coming with me?
[chorus]
(in a red dress) I want a girl like that
(....................) I need a girl like that
(out late night) you need a girl like that
Hey hey hey hey
(with a tongue ring) I want a girl like that
(doin her own thing) I need a girl like that
(a little tattoo) we need a girl like that
Hey hey hey hey
Now were up in v.i.p.
Got this honey next to me
And she screams
When the dj plays
(peaches and cream)
Baby do that dance for me
Get your friends round
Two or three
We can rendevous
And do that thing we do
I wanna drink to you
After drinks, its time to leave
Go to valet, get my keys
Heres a fifty, keep the change
Jump in the range
Which honeys coming with me?
[chorus]
Yea its a party, girls all around me
Its a party, we gettin rowdy
Its a party, it - its a party
Clap your hands *clap clap*
Everybody up in the party
Everybody, time to get rowdy
Everybody up in the party
Clap your hands *clap clap clap clap*
(here we go)
Oh my god, its 6 am
The partys comin to an end
She asks me when we will again
Is that a sin?
Tomorrow is her best friend
[chorus x2 out]

song performed by by O-town
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Very First Football Match

Holding my Fathers hand
walking to the ground
crowds of Football fans
making lots of sound.
Standing on the terraces
players warming up
maybe a League game
or even the F.A.Cup.
Dad said I just stared
but that I enjoyed it all
and when I got back home
went straight out with my ball.
And when I too became a Dad
I went and did exactly the same
taking both my young sons
to nearly every home game.
So if your looking down Dad
and you spot me in the crowd
you'll see I've carried on the tradition
and I hope it makes you proud.

poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Million Man March Poem

The night has been long,
The wound has been deep,
The pit has been dark,
And the walls have been steep.

Under a dead blue sky on a distant beach,
I was dragged by my braids just beyond your reach.
Your hands were tied, your mouth was bound,
You couldn't even call out my name.
You were helpless and so was I,
But unfortunately throughout history
You've worn a badge of shame.

I say, the night has been long,
The wound has been deep,
The pit has been dark
And the walls have been steep.

But today, voices of old spirit sound
Speak to us in words profound,
Across the years, across the centuries,
Across the oceans, and across the seas.
They say, draw near to one another,
Save your race.
You have been paid for in a distant place,
The old ones remind us that slavery's chains
Have paid for our freedom again and again.

The night has been long,
The pit has been deep,
The night has been dark,
And the walls have been steep.

The hells we have lived through and live through still,
Have sharpened our senses and toughened our will.
The night has been long.
This morning I look through your anguish
Right down to your soul.
I know that with each other we can make ourselves whole.
I look through the posture and past your disguise,
And see your love for family in your big brown eyes.

I say, clap hands and let's come together in this meeting ground,
I say, clap hands and let's deal with each other with love,
I say, clap hands and let us get from the low road of indifference,
Clap hands, let us come together and reveal our hearts,
Let us come together and revise our spirits,
Let us come together and cleanse our souls,
Clap hands, let's leave the preening
And stop impostering our own history.
Clap hands, call the spirits back from the ledge,
Clap hands, let us invite joy into our conversation,
Courtesy into our bedrooms,
Gentleness into our kitchen,
Care into our nursery.

The ancestors remind us, despite the history of pain
We are a going-on people who will rise again.

And still we rise.

poem by Maya Angelou
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stomp Your Hands, Clap Your Feet

Whoa!
Woo-woo yeah
Turn it up until it bangs your head
Tear it down now mother don't play dead
People stand the noise
All the little toys
Put some more coke on the fire
Stomp your hands
Clap your feet
Stomp your hands
To the beat
Stomp your hands
Clap your feet
Stomp your hands
To the beat
Mixed up kids lookin' for that night
They're getting higher everything in sight, well alright
The music's pretty loud
Someone in the crowd
Think they're gonna cause us a riot
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh
Stomp your hands
Clap your feet
Stomp your hands
To the beat, oh
Stomp your hands
Clap your feet
Stomp your hands
To the beat
Rock on, rock on, rock on
Yow!
How how how how how
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh
(Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh)
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh
(Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh)
(Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh)
Whoa-oh-oh-oh ho ho ho
Stomp your hands
Clap those feet, yeah
Stomp your hands
To the beat
C'mon boys
Stomp your hands
Clap your feet
Whoa-whoa, all night, yeah, yeah, yeah
Stomp your hands
(Oh whoa oh oh)
Clap your feet
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh
Stomp your hands
Clap your feet
Stomp your hands
To the beat
All night long
Stomp your hands
(Everybody)
Clap your feet
(Everybody stomp your hands to the beat in the heat yeah yeah yeah yeah woo!)
Stomp your hands
(Oh!)
Clap your feet
(Oh whoa whoa whoa whoa, rock all night, yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Oh yeah
Stomp your hands
(Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Clap your feet
(My my my, my my my my my my, my, my, m

song performed by by Quiet Riot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down the Gallowgate

I took a stroll one Saturday along to Argyle Street,
To Glasgow Cross, were the Gallowgate & the Trongate meet,
Under the railway bridge and McKinnon’s pub, I would often pass,
Heading up towards to the Barras, towards the Celtic bars.

My first stop of the journey was the famous Saracen Head
Were rebel songs by Glasgow bands, were loudly, proudly played.
I drank my pint plus two more and gladly sang along;
‘Crossmaglen’, ‘Irish Soldier Laddie’, ‘Sean South of Garryowen’.

I squeezed by some thirsty fans, in through the doorway of Bairds Bar
Were a pint of Tennents 80/, I was duly served,
By the jukebox on the wall, I always like to stand
Listening to a ballad, of the martyr, Bobby Sands.

By the time, I reached the entrance of Bar 67
Grey clouds had gathered and threatened to rain,
I stood amongst fans, who hailed from Belfast and from Derry,
Who had travelled to the game, on the overnight ferry.

After finishing my third pint in the Hoops Bar
I contemplated on buying and drinking another jar,
With the game to set to start in less than 20 minutes,
I had a glass of Jamieson’s whiskey & toasted the Glasgow Celtic.

Nov’14th 2005

poem by Daniel McDonagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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song performed by by Dandy Warhols
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After the match

Final whistle has been blown
yet another loss and a defeat
our fans head home miserable
heads bowed walking down the street.
Some have to stand in a queue for a bus
others walk or drive off in their cars
a few stand talking about the match
while most head off to clubs and bars.
In the pub fans discuss missed chances
and moan about the very poor referee
some say they won't be coming again
and wouldn't watch them even if it was free.
But the long suffering supporter says nothing
just sits quietly drinking his pint of beer
he's listened and heard it all so many times
season after season and year after year.
He'll be back for the next game once again
hoping and praying that his team don't get beat
but whatever the result at the end of the match
he'll keep on watching his team in his usual seat.

poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Analysis Of Baseball

It’s about
the ball,
the bat,
and the mitt.
Ball hits
bat, or it
hits mitt.
Bat doesn’t
hit ball, bat
meets it.
Ball bounces
off bat, flies
air, or thuds
ground (dud)
or it
fits mitt.

Bat waits
for ball
to mate.
Ball hates
to take bat’s
bait. Ball
flirts, bat’s
late, don’t
keep the date.
Ball goes in
(thwack) to mitt,
and goes out
(thwack) back
to mitt.

Ball fits
mitt, but
not all
the time.
Sometimes
ball gets hit
(pow) when bat
meets it,
and sails
to a place
where mitt
has to quit
in disgrace.
That’s about
the bases
loaded,
about 40,000
fans exploded.

It’s about
the ball,
the bat,
the mitt,
the bases
and the fans.
It’s done
on a diamond,
and for fun.
It’s about
home, and it’s
about run.

poem by May Swenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0021 Football's new rules

I guess you read the news
about the town – soon to be copied –
which abolished traffic lights...
what happened? Self-preservation,
care, and courtesy have won the day..

while the soccer news this weekend was
that everybody blames the referee..
who’s after all, just the traffic-lights to this game..
suppose we tried the same daring system on the soccer field..

any player who makes a bad tackle
or an inadvertent trip (deliberate ones
would disappear as a mark of shame)
to apologise politely and offer
a free kick to the other side..

the player who kicks the ball into touch
immediately hands the ball to the other side
or at the very least, runs away – both sides
always knowing very well who touched it last..

shirt-pulling and diving would be
such matters of shame that the player’s
own side would stop playing and remain
rooted to the spot until
the culprit offered a free kick..

and any really doubtful events would be referred
to the television cameras for a quick decision;
and all the players might just feel the urge
to applaud and clap a tricky moment fairly resolved?

and at the end of the match,
the players would line up and just like
an international does at the beginning,
shake hands down the line…

while the managers would meet symbolically at centre-pitch,
shake hands publicly on a game cleanly fought,
and even – full on camera – look each other
in the eye..

and we the supporters would feel damn proud
that sport was sport once again, that
football was and is the life-blood of the nation,
and if not more important than life and death
at least a happy occasion of skills enjoyed..

and that, win or lose, chivalry and
the game’s the thing..

poem by Michael Shepherd
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On The Cork Hurlers Strike

The best hurlers will not be playing for the Rebel County this year
At least not under coach Gerald McCarthy for Cork fans such sad news to hear
The Liam McCarthy Cup this year won't be coming to the hurling City by the Lee
Without Cork's best hurling only half dressed as hurling fans all would agree
Cork hurling fans not very happy to them hurling more than a game
Some blame the hurlers and others blame Gerald and others the County Board blame
Gerald has no notion of resigning and Cork's best under him will not play
And the loser is the game of hurling and that does seem a sad thing to say
Cork will have a hurling team in the League and All Ireland Championship but their best the red jersey will not wear
And for any hope of sporting success as we do know a team would need every top player
And in 2009 Cork will only make up the numbers though the game of hurling will go on
For hurling does live on in Ireland though great players to and from the game have come and gone
In 2009 Cork will not have their best team at least now it's looking that way
In a sad time for Cork and for hurling in Ireland and that seems a sad thing to say.

poem by Francis Duggan
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I have had fans make me the big picture collages of the photo books; I have had fans send me birthday cakes... sing to me on my voicemail. I have had fans flash me. I have had older fans give me their bras and underwear onstage.

quote by Puff Daddy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Switch!

You gotta stop listen up
Checking out my beats
Know that theyre unique
Got you jumping out your seats ah
Never bring the same flow upon a track
Better watch your back when I bring the switch attack now
People when they nod
Nod they dont to the funk
Thing that I bring
Make your head wanna ring
Here we come you know we bring it raw
Get up on the floor cuz you gotta get some more
Friday night
The partys just around the corner
Shell be there so I just cant be late
Gotta get my groove thing on
Cuz Ill be dancing all night long
Send me to a place where I can have some fun
Refrao
Once I get up on the floor, see me coming back for more
See me rocking all my moves, everybodys watching me
Once I get up on the floor, see me coming back for more
See me rocking all my moves, everybodys watching me (switch!)
Da freak (4x) - switch!
Rock it like this (2x) - switch!
Five guys clap your hands
Just clap your hands to this
Just clap your hands to the beat now (switch!)
Uh, uh, uh, we get down, uh, uh, uh, uh (switch!)
Nine oclock
And finally my groove is swinging
Beats are fine now
I guess its time to rock (guess its time to rock)
Now the partys on the way
I found out Ive got to stay
People start to gather round and round and round and round
Refrao
Switch! (3x)
Ah yeah come on, ah yeah, ah yeah
Ah yeah come on, ah yeah, ah yeah
Switch! (2x)
Da freak (2x) - switch!
Rock it like this - switch!
Five guys clap your hands - switch!
Uh, uh, uh
Switch! (4x)
Ah yeah come on, ah yeah, ah yeah - switch!
Ah yeah come on, ah yeah, ah yeah

song performed by by Five
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think the Commissioner is taking the steps necessary to give the game back to the players and the fans and hopefully take the league to the next level.

quote by Cobi Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Night Long (feat. Faith Evans )

We can dance, dance, dance
Clap your hands, hands, hands
All night, if you're in the mood
Do what you wanna do
All night long
Happy days are here
So leave your cares behind
Just relax your mind
It's so easy to do it
Just enjoy yourself
If the feeling's right
Get your groove on tonight
Take your time tonight
Everything's alright
Ain't nothin' but a party
We can dance, dance, dance
Clap your hands, hands, hands
All night, if you're in the mood
Do what you wanna do
All night long
Get up on the floor
Don't worry 'bout a thing
The rhythm's got you now
So come on, get into it
Just enjoy yourself
If the feeling's right
Get your groove on tonight
Take your time tonight
Everything's alright
Ain't nothin' but a party
We can dance, dance, dance
Clap your hands, hands, hands
All night, if you're in the mood
Do what you wanna do
All night long
Have a good time (uh huh)
Lay back, relax (free)
Just free your mind
Let the music take control of you
Puff Daddy:
If it's a hit then I musta did it
If it's not then I wasn't with it
Bad Boy stay committed
Whether hip-hop or R&B
Featuring Faith Evans, co-starring me -- P. Diddy
You know I got the key to your city
Unlock the door, rock some more
Beats we lace, Bad Boy heats the place
We run R&B too cause we Keep the Faith
Givin' the streets a taste
Blaze the charts (Faith: I remember...)
In case you forgot, First Lady be makin' it hot
Ain't nobody takin the spot
Now Faith instead of pain
Comin' through with a better grain
In the dash, cell phone better range
Get the cash, stack paper for the whole four quarters
Man some things never chance, you feel me?
Let's make 'em dance
We can dance, dance, dance
Clap your hands, hands, hands
All night, if you're in the mood
Do what you wanna do
All night long
Have a good time (have a)
Lay back, relax (free)
Just free your mind
Let the music take control of you
We can dance, dance, dance
Clap your hands, hands, hands
All night, if you're in the mood
Do what you wanna do
All night long

song performed by by Puff Daddy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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En.Citatepedia^®.ro

On Matchdays

Related quotes

Football fans are so fickle

Tense And Nervous At The Match

Under Pressure'

Back Chat

A New Football Season

Uncle Eric

Girl Like That

My Very First Football Match

Million Man March Poem

Stomp Your Hands, Clap Your Feet

Down the Gallowgate

We Used To Be Friends

After the match

Analysis Of Baseball

0021 Football's new rules

On The Cork Hurlers Strike

Switch!

All Night Long (feat. Faith Evans )

En.Citatepedia®.ro

On Matchdays

Related quotes

Football fans are so fickle

Tense And Nervous At The Match

Under Pressure'

Back Chat

A New Football Season

Uncle Eric

Girl Like That

My Very First Football Match

Million Man March Poem

Stomp Your Hands, Clap Your Feet

Down the Gallowgate

We Used To Be Friends

After the match

Analysis Of Baseball

0021 Football's new rules

On The Cork Hurlers Strike

Switch!

All Night Long (feat. Faith Evans )

En.Citatepedia^®.ro