The F.A.Cup Final
When I was a kid it was a big day
all the family around the television
I'd watch hours of the build up
seeing how both teams got there.
My father telling my mum the rules
my sister pretending she was interested
even the dog barked at the screen.
I'd kick every ball during the match
dreaming of being there one day
this was the best day of the year.
After the match I'd be over the fields
I'd pretend i was one of the players
who had played that day at Wembley.
The F.A.Cup Final was a great occasion
the biggest day in the football season
the best cup competition in the world!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Related quotes
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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Kick the Ball
Kick the ball and score a goal! !
For that's all about football;
Because the goals are much important than,
Those who played the best match!
And like the 'Women Football World Cup' as seen on our screens,
For 2011 took the game to Germany.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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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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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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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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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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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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In The Local Football Oval
In the floodlight lit football oval each weeknight after tea
I hear the young men shouting as they train diligently
As their coach puts them through their training drills their exuberance I hear
They sprint about in the chill night air in the coldest time of year.
Some of the young players under twenty they have their dreams of fame
That they yet may become famous in Australia's only indigenous game
To play in an Australian Football League Grand final would be a dream come true
A dream that's dreamt by many and realized by only a few.
In the well lit football oval they kick ball and sprint around
And in their endeavour to become match fit they cover miles of ground
And they perform push ups and pull ups and natural muscle in this way they gain
For one cannot expect sporting success if for success you do not train.
In the local football oval where dreams are born and die
The shoutings of the young men echoes to the starry sky
In the chill evening air of late Autumn you hear them cheer and shout
As they race through the oval and chase the ball about.
I hear them every evening from six thirty till after eight
In the local football oval five hundred metres from my front gate
The town's young budding football stars not quite yet in their prime
And they dream of sporting greatness that will withstand the test of time.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Match-ball!
Match-ball!
Everywhere;
Match-ball, match, ball, at;
Everywhere!
Miscellaneous,
Cat, hat, hall, ham, call;
Into the clefts of the rocks! !
Holes, moles, ploes, soles;
To the moles and bats!
Exiles,
Exits,
All, mall, tall, mat, bat;
Pastures,
Pictures,
Tab, bam, lam, cam, act, batch;
Kindled,
Justifies!
But, like a flint;
Boles, voles, roles!
At Royal Victoria Place Shopping Centre;
However, it was like a match-ball.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A coach can only teach.
A coach is not a match to his players.
Stamina matters.
A teacher cannot match his students;
Memory matters.
A preacher cannot match his disciples;
Staunchness matters.
A husband cannot match his cuckold;
Curiosity matters.
Can a ladder match the climber?
30.09.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Game Over
Counters laid, last card played, final dice thrown,
Match over, time up, final whistle blown
Game packed up, set aside, for another day
Two players, now apart, gone separate ways.
She was too committed; he hardly cared
Often she played solo, few games were shared.
In the end time ran out, so did the fun
Lost cards, broken pieces, too soon it was done.
He made all the rules up; she played it straight
He lied and cheated, it was stale-mate
Lost opportunities, failed strategies
Game plan was forgotten, nothing would please
The game is now over, nobody won
Why does she sit and cry, wanting to play on?
poem by Jackie Metcalfe
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The Woman Five Doors Down
The woman five doors down tells me her son Ted is the best player in the school football team
And that one day he will play in an A.F.L. Grand Final and that more than once of late she's had this dream
Of watching him receive the Coleman medal for best on ground on football's biggest day
Watched by well over ninety thousand people who cheer him on with a loud hip hooray.
But locals who know of football and watched Ted play say he will never play at the top grade
That he won't go down Swanston Street in the back of a lorry
to loud applause in the Grand Final Parade
They say his mother greatly over rates him and that in his team he's just an average player
And that not one in his club will play A.F.L. football with good under age players they do not compare
Ted's mother believes her son will be a football hero and she seemed so convinced that she convinced me
But others who have seen him play say different and with her opinions they do not agree
They say that she will end up disappointed that her dreams for her son will not come true
That he won't make a career out of football another line of work he must pursue.
The woman five doors down tells me her son Ted will one day play in the famed M.C.G.
And be the hero of a great Grand Final in a game that will go down in history
And though others seem to think that she's only dreaming I hope her son will be a football great
And that she will applaud him in the Grand Final and the football fans his name will celebrate.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Uncertain match plays in the ground of Radiation!
The whole World is sick and in the Asylum
Patients were given the Tranquilizers!
And they watch the match with Doctor Confused!
Thank God! The Sea is calm and there won't be any Tsunami?
The head umpire is not certain whether the ball touched the bat
And it's an out?
He's requested the decision from the match Referee.
An Alien comes with a deep cry from a different Planet.
Doctor asked what can I do for you?
'I am a fortune teller' He replied.
'Oh! You came in the right time and is it out? '
'I am not sure.'
'Then who wins the match? '
'That's uncertain.'
'I have a hole in the heart since my childhood and it's very painful
Even the Tetanus scared to approach and finish this sad story.'
Doctor gave him a Morphine injection!
And all is quiet now, match goes on!
I too watch this entertaining game from infinity!
To all the Cricket fans in gratitude!
(Including my friend JVL.)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The one game we all play
The one game we all play
We play games
To show our valour
And mainly to win
We do not mind going for coaching
If we feel we do not have the
Required strength to win
We play games
Either as a team or individual
The attempt is to demonstrate
That we are better talented
Than the team or member
Against whom we play
Nations enthuse people to play games
So that they add pride
Some games are played with
Gadgets and protective accessories
We have spectators to watch
The way we play
We have umpires and referees
Who ensure rules of the games
Are strictly adhered
And it is all a fair play
We play games indoor or outdoor
We play games in daylight
Or under artificial illumination
We score while playing
And the score achieved by a team or individual
In a specific time
Decides the winner
We telecast the games
We comment on the strengths and weaknesses
Of a team or individual
We conduct national and international
Tournaments to declare a team or individual
As champion
Irrespective of skills, race, gender
We all play a game
Which is played mainly to lose
It is an individual game
With no specific rules
With no umpire
With no spectator
With no commentator
With no TV coverage
With no scores
With no trophies
With no victory stands
With no top scorer
With no “player of the match”
But we play
Most of us like to play this game
Indoor and in closed doors
Decency and civilized ways
Do not allow this game being played in the open
There is no season for this game
It can be played any part of the day
And any part of the year
Summer, winter, monsoon seasons
Have no bearing on this game
The one requirement in this game is
Complete transparency and intimacy
Rules for this game
Vary from individual to individual
Rules also get refined
With the experience of the players
There are no restrictions to employ
Any method as both the players
Are determined to be the loser
Duration of play depends again
On the individuals
The game ends
Most often to the satisfaction
Of the both the players
In other games players declare
That they are retiring from playing
There is no retirement in this game
As players advance in age
They understand it is more a mind game
Outcome of this game
Are further more players
You guessed it right
It is the game of love
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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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
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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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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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Truth is stranger than friction
The joy of truth is
that it can be funnier,
crazier,
than fiction.
On September 16 the referee
suspended a football match
following complaints by the spectators
that the players on both
multicultural or should I say
multiracial teams
had been racially abusing each other
with terms like 'black bastard'
a player corrected this, explaining
that it wasn't racial abuse but
'sledging' - to put off
players from kicking penalties etc.:
'Sure it was abuse, but there
was no racism'
well that's alright then, after all
it's a multi, er, cultural society
and the tackling was clean and
good sportsmanship sorta
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Soccer world cup 2010
Soccer is the word on many lips
soccer world cup 2010
Joyous is the mood all
over the land
A first for a our small nation
flags to be hosted proudly
all over the land
White and black soccer balls
will be played over many fields
Some teams will win
some teams will loose
some teams will cry
some teams will be happy
Praise God Almighty
for this special occasion
a first for our small nation
in Jesus Name
poem by Allen Brodell
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