Football Friday
Friday nite, small towns, big city
Big lights, mark field
quietly awaiting
for bands, fans
school colors, school spirits
pep rally's, scoring alleys
big crowds, cheering fans
cheerleaders dancing, cheering
Root Root for the home team
balls flying, bodies diving
scrambles of run, bombs of passes
scoring touchdowns, holding them down
Win Win hail to our team
Lose Lose hold your heads high
there's another day to win the game
loading bus, cheers and jeers
what a night, for the fight
Win Win for the home crowd
Go Go we won't go
fight fight thru the night
finally a win, what a team
play the game as your first
win it like your last
sportsmanship is the respect
give a hand shake win or lose
till the next game we will go
on another beautiful Friday night
poem by Michael Peterson
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Related quotes
Football Frenzy
Football is a contact sport;
In short—a “rough” game.
It may leave you dancing,
Or it could leave you lame.
Armed with helmets, jerseys
And spandex tights—
All tough dudes,
Ready for the fight.
Digging in with spiked shoes,
And war paint on their face.
Staring down the adversary—
No mercy and no grace.
Tackles, hits and yard runs.
The scoring of “touchdowns, ”
With each team striving
For the coveted crown.
Whether dancing, banged or lame—
‘Tis the nature of the game.
And that’s okay with football fans,
They love it just the same.
poem by Walterrean Salley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Team
We look like we know what we're doing
When they ask us to play
Only takes two or three minutes
To warm up and give it our best
And beat all the rest
The girls in the stands and all of our fans
We're for our team yeah
You'll never lose it
With us you're still number one
We run out onto the court
We're playing our favorite sport
We don't care about the big guys
We're taking them down to our size
And we get a rise
From the girls in the stands and all of our fans
Yeah
We're for our team yeah
You'll never lose it
With us you're still number one
Give it our best
And beat all the rest
For the girls in the stands and all of our fans
We're for our team yeah
You'll never lose it
With us you're still number one
You'll never lose it
With us you're still number one
You'll never lose it
With us you're still number one
You'll never lose it
With us you're still number one
[email protected]
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Big match tomorrow
Really big game on Saturday
playing a team at the top
told my mates to be there
let the women go to the shops.
The club is having a bad season
losing more games than we win
so we need to get really behind them
and they need to play out of their skin.
Being at the bottom is depressing
that's why fans are staying away
but we love our football club
that's why we'll be there on Saturday.
The away fans will be full of themselves
and to them it will be a great day out
because their team will be favourites
and they'll think it will be easy no doubt.
So we'll make lots of noise and never shut up
and keep on singing till our throats are sore
because that's what a true football fan does
they keep on going even when the team is poor.
So I'll keep my fingers crossed that we win
if we do I'll be really happy on Saturday night
not only because my team was victorious
but I'll be leaving the pub as high as a kite!
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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Playbook
We sat around
and drank beer
watched a football game
on a bright warm
Sunday afternoon.
We shuffled poker cards
and played without betting
so after a few hands I folded
and opened another beer.
I sat back and watched
the game on a
wide screen HD TV.
Middle age men cheering
a team that was doomed
from the start of the game.
We ate sandwiches and
complained about the price of gas
and property taxes
and all the other scabs
that come from
domesticated dementia
the conversations were weak
at best so we broke out
a bottle of tequila
and took a few shots
during halftime.
Nobody smokes anymore
so I walked outside
smoked a cigarette
nobody smokes anymore
as I came back in
a few of the men were
comparing matrimony
to football and how one
needs to call the right plays
to get ahead and finally score
to win a couple of times
in this very long season
of self inflicted love
I opened a cold one
and listened
as the tequila
took hold of some
loudly cheering
because our team
had scored and
we still were
two touchdowns behind
with under two minutes
left in the game
we toasted once more
before the clock ran out
and our team lost another one
we readjusted as we mentioned
our chores that awaited us at home.
Nobody took another shot,
our wives would be waiting
for each of us to get home.
as we headed towards our cars
we waved farewell to each other
we must do this again soon
we knew at this stage in our lives
our playbook was thin...
poem by Charles Lara
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The Beautiful Game
A ball hit into empty stands in a game of cricket,
A game so bland won’t have me buying a ticket,
As a kid I saw my first footy game at Stamford Bridge,
Gullit was a magician with the ball he’d flick and trick it,
Knew there and then that id be picking it,
As my favourite sport played on this earth,
Picked up a football never stopped kicking it,
First touch chesting it, cross comes in always headering it,
The beautiful game has a magic that keeps you remembering it,
Mini football games like ‘66’ boost skills and tricks
For schoolboys bunking school claiming there sick
The dick in black blowing his whistle for a diving prat,
Blokes in pubs screaming “what was that? ! ? ! ”
Sad to see the beautiful game run by money men and bankers,
Warms my heart though to still hear the crowd go
“The referees a wanker! The referees a wanker! ”
Im forever blowing bubbles walking in a winter wonderland,
Oh to be a man and football fan on your sofa in the pub or the stands,
There’s nothing quite like it to be together in your team clan,
Cheering our teams on with every emotional breath at hand
No sport is as passionate or bigger,
No sport can do it like football can,
No nation has stadiums that are fuller,
No country can love this game more then England fans!
poem by Kaspa Richards
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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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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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We All Stand Together
Win or lose, sink or swim
One thing is certain well never give in
Side by side, hand in hand
We all stand together
Play the game, fight the fight
But whats the point on a beautiful night?
Arm in arm, hand in hand
We all stand together
La-
Keeping us warm in the night
La la la la
Walk in the night
Youll get it right
Repeat
Win or lose, sink or swim
One thing is certain well never give in
Side by side, hand in hand
We all stand together
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Locals Are The Premiers
Above the Local oval for twelve months will fly the Premiership flag
The Locals are the Premiers they can afford to brag
Down at the Footy Club they are celebrating and singing the Club song
The fans are in a party mood they will sing all night long.
The Locals are the Premiers the champion team this year
Their fans are celebrating they will drink heaps of beer
Since the final siren was blown today the fans have sung long and loud
The Local team have won the day and have done themselves proud.
Lets hear it for the Premiers a mighty hip hooray
The local football fans are cheering in this their greatest day
For the winners joy and the losers heartache that's life as some would say
Life has it's good and bad times and it has always been this way.
The local football team are Premiers and their fans celebrate
Two decades since the last flag was won but it was a worth the wait
The town pubs are in a festive mood they will party on all night
And down at the Football Club Rooms the fans whoop in delight.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Pick Up Game First One To 11 By 1's
fOR ME TO WIN IT HAS TO BE SOMETHING IN IMPORTANT.
WHY DOES HE HAS RUBBER BANDS ON HIS ARMS, THAT QUESTION SHALL BE DISCOVER AS YOU GROW WE THE GAME.
ILL STOLE IT THREE TIME IN ONE GAME, HES A BIG MAN BUT THE SCORE 7-11, COME MY PEPS DONT LET ME IMPRESS YOU INN FRONT YOUR PEOPLE, THAT COULD BEEN ON A HIGHLIGHT REEL
GETTING SHUT OUT IN GAME TO 11 YOU KNOW HE'S NOT GOING GET A NOTHING GAME.
tHE GAME OF BASKETBALL IS ALL ABOUT RESPECT,
THE ULTRAMENT RESPECT IS TO GIVE NO RESPECT,
WHEN IT COME TO THE GAME OF BASKETBALL.
thats how you gain respect! ! ! !
AND IM HURT AND STILL TOOK YOUR MAN GAME YOU TELL ME WAS WE PLAY TO A ELEVEN OR WAS I JUST TAKE YOU SCHOOL.
talking about running the city, we talk about that later after your lesson
BECAUSE IF IT WAS A GAME FULL COURT FIVE ON FIVE AND IT GAME BASE ON STRAGTEY NOT SKILL WHO DO YOU THINK WOULD WIN.
RESPECT IS GIVING WHEN YOU SHOW IT, CHECK IS IN,
BALL PLAY.
poem by Louis Borgo
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Rugby football hero
Drive men, drive!
Get the freaking ball!
That’s it, now go.
Fling it, throw the damned thing!
From the reserve bench
the game is rushing by
and both flanks, the centre, the lock
almost every member of the team
are taking huge knocks and still
nobody is really getting hurt.
A dropp goal soars through the poles,
followed by a brilliant try
and the crowd are standing, are cheering
when the confirmation kick
is delivered securely.
The opponents are really angry,
starts to play dirty,
with reckless foal play,
high tackling
and gets a penalty kick
that is on the mark
and then the lock is hurt,
trampled under boots
and the manager
points to me
and while the crowd cheers
I run on to the field.
The whistle blows
and in full pace I run in line
catching the ball that is flung to me
and the game is on,
the crowd roars while I sidestep
two tackles and see the line
and every thing is blurring
and time is fragmented
into splits of seconds
and I am flying at speed
trying to touch down.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Be True To Your School
When some loud braggart tries to put me down
And says his school is great
I tell him right away
Now whats the matter buddy
Aint you heard of my school
Its number one in the state
So be true to your school now
Just like you would to your girl or guy
Be true to your school now
And let your colors fly
Be true to your school
I got a lettermans sweater
With a letter in front
I got for footbal and track
Im proud to where it now
When I cruise around
The other parts of the town
I got a decal in back
So be true to your school now
Just like you would to your girl or guy
Be true to your school now
And let your colors fly
Be true to your school
On friday well be jacked up on the football game
And Ill be ready to fight
Were gonna smash em now
My girl will be working on her pom-poms now
And shell be yelling tonight
So be true to your school now
Just like you would to your girl or guy
Be true to your school now
And let your colors fly
Be true to your school
Rah rah rah be true to your school
Rah rah rah be true to your school
Rah rah rah be true to your school
Rah rah rah be true to your school
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sore Loser
You tried out for the high school team
So you would have some childhood dreams
That you and your father could share
Football coach said you're too small
Don't even think of basketball
You knew you were destined to fail
Went to the track meet
You wanna be an athlete (sore loser)
Get back in your seat they said
Go to the dugout
Three strikes you stuck out (sore loser)
And home runs flew over your head
Looking down on rock n' roll
And you dreamed of scoring goals
You're saving those dreams for your bed
Thought it was cool to be a jock
You ended up a rent-a-cop
A dozen donuts in your hand
You're a loser
A sore loser
Now it seems the tables turned
The game of life you should have learned
So try using some of your brains
All your high school friends are stars
Driving really fancy cars
The irony drives you insane
song performed by by Dog Eat Dog from Play Games
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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A Ritual of Victory
Out on the playing arena long about now,
Two teams are competing as if they are on trial.
Cheerleaders are entertaining with a new style,
Holding the attention of the crowd for a while.
The fans are cheering as loud as they can.
The players are inspired by the music of the band.
The scoreboard lights seem to blink at will,
The victor's final score is bright and still.
Shortly after the game, they'll all come in,
The players tuckered out, the coach with a grin.
Proud of their victory, they'll scarcely wait,
Specially if the post game ceremony is late.
It may be football or soccer or any other game,
A ritual of victory is basically the same.
The players huddle together and in unison say grace.
Wonder who is standing in my old place.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Post Grand Final Day
For the winners many weeks of hip hip hooray
And the feeling of joy with their fans months does stay
But for one to win one must lose as some do say
And for the losers only sadness post Grand Final Day.
And since winning is what only does seem to count
Gallant in defeat to little does seem to amount
The joy in victory is always sweet
There is never any glory in defeat.
Those uninterested in sports say football is just a game
That who wins or who loses life goes on the same
But those who support football clubs never see it that way
They do get quite excited watching their team play.
To play in a Grand Final is many a boy's dream
And be a champion player in a Premiership Team
But on post Grand Final day only the winners celebrate
And for their victory their fans say 'twas well worth the wait.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Suppose Football Does Serve A Purpose
Suppose football does serve a purpose some males do need other interests in their lives
Than working or drinking of alcohol or arguing with or making love to their girl friends or wives
On saturday they go to the football to cheer on their team win or lose
'Tis better for them than going to the local and wasting their money on the booze
At least watching football they won't be losing brain cells as they do when they are on the grog
And next day feeling nauseated and hung over and as sick as a very sick dog
Their partners and wives happy to see them going to the football for to support their football club
They feel that for them it is far better than guzzling down grog at the pub
In football there can be disappointments when your team does not win the game
But for every winner there is a loser and to lose should never be a shame
There's more to life than grog and work and women there is that marvellous game known as football
To you and many others 'tis a passion and your team to you is the greatest team of all.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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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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