Sicker Soccer
The £10,000 a week defender can’t quite
catch the £20,000 striker who's got
the ball at his nimble, expensive feet, the stadium yelling
fit to raise the roof – what does he do? why,
he pulls the striker’s shirt, of course…; the ref, the commentators
remain silent. We, we were told off at nursery classes,
for pulling little Johnny’s shirt… I mean, for Pele’s sake,
what is this about? ! ..
then at the end of the game (one side’s got to win,
you’d think the fans are like they used to be,
paid good money to watch a good match)
the managers spit out their gum, pat each other on the back
whilst walking away, and not looking each other in the eye…
none of that love of the game stuff, the sparkling eyes
of those who love their sport, shaking hands
with a worthy opponent…ha…
and as for cricket – ‘sledging’ – can you believe it?
making sneery remarks to the batsmen while you stand in close…
never happened when sport was something you
enjoyed, loved to do, enjoyed the challenge and the company…
‘oh it’s all in good fun’… yeah?
tennis, being one-on-one, ain’t so bad; psych yourself up
but put the venom in your shots; but then,
when the match ends, run up to the net (or so they
used to) , eyes meet, shake hands, a few words? not
so often – shake hands without making
eye-contact, off to thank the umpire who's
up there out of reach…
it’s like some sorta natural law: when sport is a game
like life, the game’s the thing, and well-played, sir; pay
your ‘sportsmen’, your mercenaries, in the name
of ‘popular entertainment’ and big business, and
something disappears, as revenues increase;
how long before poetry becomes
a ‘spectator sport’ with a World Slam League out there
and TV rights?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cricket Is Just Another Game
Cricket just like baseball and football and golf is just another game
And though some great cricket players have won Worldwide fame
Cricket for most cricket fans like followers of all other sports
From their life cares is just an escape of sorts
The praises of sports celebrities millions every day do sing
And nowadays sports Worldwide is a huge thing
And those not in some way involved in sport a minority
At least that is how it does seem to me
I've got nothing against cricket I'd like to make that clear
Though on t v and radio so much of it to see and hear
Like every sport for millions of poor people I am aware
A temporary escape from their lives every care
And cricket after all is just another game
Like every other sport it is much the same.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Sport I Love
Like any other sports
this is the one I choose,
I love, and I have been playing.
the sport I want to be belong.
That is soccer.! ! !
Playing this game
have been giving me an event
that is hard to forget.
It is exciting right! ! !
And therefore
I do not know how
could I leave this sport.
Of which is this sport
help me to build my stamina,
meet a lot of friends, and
also this sport taught me
how to act as a human being,
in order to have a discipline
not only in this sport
but also in the community
as well as in a situation.
It help a lot in me right! ? ,
therefore i must not have to forget
as well as to leave this sport
but to love this sport forever..
I love soccer.! .
poem by Patrick Pinote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sport Just A Diversion
The anthem of Australian Rules Football the song known as 'We'll be there'
And Aussie Rules fans who do not know this song by heart to say the least quite rare
On Saturday after the game at the M C G in groups as they walk along the street
A song sung by the winning fans since victory is sweet.
They sing 'We were there when the boys became the men' their religion is football
And they tell all of those who wish to hear 'the greatest game of all'
But sport is just a diversion from the big problems out there
In the World where the haves make more and the have nots live in despair
Of ever getting anywhere in life they live in poverty
They live their dreams through the success of celebrities that they see on t.v.
And sport is a diversion for them from the reality
Of ever knowing success themselves suppose what is to be will be.
Sport just a diversion from reality for the have nots to enjoy
Poor teenagers dream of sporting fame a dream for most that die
Before they reach their forties when they come to realize
That life is very different when seen through ageing eyes
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Winners Are Always The Heroes
The winners are always the heroes in life it is always this way
The losers are quickly forgotten though a fine and sporting
game they did play
'Tis only a sport it may well seem where people chase after a ball
But many take football quite seriously though 'tis only a game after all,
The winners are always the heroes and that's how it always will be
The fans of the winners are singing rejoicing in their victory
Life and sports are akin in many ways though some may say 'tis only a game
The winners get all of the applause and the winners can bask in their fame,
The winners are always the heroes and the winners get all of the praise
And always only to the winners the toasters their toasting glasses raise
The losers are quickly forgotten though some must lose for some to win
Yet some look on losing as shameful to them there is no greater sin,
In life as in sport the poor losers are the people the masses ignore
And in football the really big hero is the one who kicks the winning score.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Isn't cricket supposed to be a team sport? I feel people should decide first whether cricket is a team game or an individual sport.
quote by Sachin Tendulkar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
The day is all but a game
The day is all but a game
~
The day is all but a game
A sport for the living to endure
Tiresome and full contact
By the end you know you’ve been played
Weary bones and minds rest
Trying to recollect the highlights
Picking apart the analysis
So as that to understand
The result in this break in play
Substitutes no longer an option
The team of family and friends
Who trust and faith rely upon
All looking good on paper
The odds should be fairly stacked
But never taken as easy or granted
The daily game is tough
And experience requires endurance
The strong shine through
Battle scared and mentally worn
We are all pawns in this game
And in going to sleep
We have it won
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dangerous Sport
Danger has a twist so large, that you squirm
From it, doing justice harder the next day.
Your queue is again in town when you wait,
Waiting is a game of sportsmanship.
The sport too long carries new weight,
Like the opening of a wand, or some pole
That magically disappears for the good,
The sport of laughter has come upon us.
Dangerous men do not leave the sides,
The sides of a triangle or square,
The real shapes endanger us
And create jeopardy so huge to carry.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
0382 Sportsman lacks ship
He's just won the tennis match;
walks up to the net,
shakes hands with his opponent
but his eyes don't follow
now they're off to the umpire's chair;
he reaches up, shakes hands
as if he's tipping the doorman,
eyes elsewhere
he may have won the match
but he's lost my vote.
At least politicians have the nerve
to look you in the eye.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Have The Touch
The time I like is the rush hour, cos I like the rush
The pushing of the people, I like it all so much
Such a mass of motion, do not know where it goes
I move with the movement and ... I have the touch
Im waiting for ignition, Im looking for a spark
Any chance collision and I light up in the dark
There you stand before me, all that fur and all that hair
Oh, do I dare ... I have the touch
Only, only
Wanting contact
Only, only
Im wanting contact
Only, only
Im wanting contact with you
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Give me the thing I understand
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Shake hands, shake hands.
Any social occasion, hello, how do you do
All those introductions, I never miss my cue
So before a question, so before a doubt
My hand moves out and ... I have the touch
Only, only
Wanting contact
Only, only
Im wanting contact
Only, only
Im wanting contact with you
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Give me the thing I understand
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Shake those hands
Pull my chin, stroke my hair, scratch my nose, hug my knees
Try drink, food, cigarette, the tension will not ease
I tap my fingers, fold my arms, breathe in deep, cross my legs
Shrug my shoulders, stretch my back, but nothing seems to please
I need contact
I need contact
Nothing seems to please
I need contact
Tac-tacatac, tac-tacatac
I need contact
Nothing seems to please
I need contact
Tac-tacatac, tac-tacatac
I need contact
Ah, tac-tacatac
I need contact
Nothing seems to please
I need contact
I need contact.
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
I Have The Touch
The time I like is the rush hour, cos I like the rush
The pushing of the people - I like it all so much
Such a mass of motion - do not know where it goes
I move with the movement and ... I have the touch
Im waiting for ignition, Im looking for a spark
Any chance collision and I light up in the dark
There you stand before me, all that fur and all that hair
Oh, do I dare ... I have the touch
Wanting contact
Im wanting contact
Im wanting contact with you
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Give me the thing I understand
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Any social occasion, its hello, how do you do
All those introductions, I never miss my cue
So before a question, so before a doubt
My hand moves out and ... I have the touch
Wanting contact
Im wanting contact
Im wanting contact with you
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Give me the thing I understand
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Pull my chin, stroke my hair, scratch my nose, hug my knees
Try drink, food, cigarette, tension will not ease
I tap my fingers, fold my arms, breathe in deep, cross my legs
Shrug my shoulders, stretch my back - but nothing seems
To please
I need contact
I need contact
Nothing seems to please
I need contact
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Soccer: My Best Foot Too Far Forward
I have to go back a bit
To tell this story
Freshman year of college
PE classes were mandatory
Somehow each semester
You had to fit one in
To the burden of other classes
You had to carry gym
It was only for an hour
Twice or so a week
Cut too often and
You were up a creek
Hours in registration lines
No on-line to be on yet
Dennis and I checked our schedules
For an open slot that met
Friends for a long time
We were looking for a sport
We could both sign up for
Open field or indoor court
We both had jobs
That made it harder
Had to pay my own way
Parents provided room and board in the barter
We found a day and time
We figured we could meet
A sport we never tried
Soccer to teach us to use our feet
We got all signed up
Then headed to get some eats
'Hey Dennis said, 'Ya know
We're gona need some cleats.'
No clue of the need for shin-guards yet
We'd never seen a game before
Only rule we knew was no hands
Running and kicking was there more
We bought a book on how to play
Split the cost just bought one
Read it all before first class
We were ready to practice and run
That we did ran drills and hills
It's all he'd let us do
'Don't play to get in shape
Get in shape to play on my crew.'
Weeks went by and still no game
We didn't sign up for that
We kicked so many pratice balls
I was sure they'd all go flat
Then the day finally came
Pick sides to play and score
I asked for center forward
I was ready for war
Whistle blew I kicked the ball
As far and hard as I could
I mentioned I'd never seen a game
Coach screamed, 'Is your head made of wood? '
Instead of 'pitching it to a mate'
I played it the Americn way
He had me running extra hills
Before he'd again let me play
He figured the offside rule
Also didn' t register with me
I was now a fullback
'How you screw this up we'll see.'
Dennis tells this story
Like it was yesterday
Reminds me I hold the school record
Distance in a kick off to my dismay
poem by Tom J. Mariani
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Woman, The Oranje And The 2010 World Cup
In a bar in Amsterdam,
I realise how football consumes the soul.
Did I care yesterday whether there had been changes to the team?
Or whether one particular player was match fit?
No.
But, today I am swept along,
I feel the electricity in the air,
The hoping, the waiting, the tension,
The tangible excitement as the team walks out.
I grasp the momentary pride as the national anthem plays
And feel the lump in my throat as I see players join in and sing along.
I’m not even Dutch.
But, I’ve bought the shirt.
Then, as the game progresses I feel the air coarse back and forth,
As each spectator gasps, oohs and ahhs when free kicks go astray and shots on goal are deflected.
I watch fingers twitch, hands wring, and nails being bitten - all in the name of football.
Football, the beautiful game.
Football, the life giving ether that unites a nation and makes busses late.
Soon a hush descends,
As a player (who I don’t know the name of) “storms” his way through to the centre,
And slides the ball neatly under the goalkeeper.
Goal! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Time stops.
In this moment there is no war, no hunger, no pain, no hate in the world,
God is alive and he wears a number 11 shirt.
poem by Teedy Dawn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Shake Your Love
Chorus:
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake...
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Verse 1:
Im under a spell again
Boy Im wondering why
This is not a game of love but an emotional tie
Im trying to figure out my heart (heart...)
But I cant offer you proof
Of why we should never be apart
And that is the (that is the) that is the truth
Oh...
Chorus:
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Verse 2:
Do you know why I stop and stare
And smile when you walk by
And how I call you up at night
I hang up the phone and I cry
If I never got to know you so well (I knew you well)
Maybe I would be fine
Baby you know that I cant tell
Why you should be (you should be) you should be mine oh
Chorus:
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake...
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Bridge:
Ooh I know what youre thinking
I see it in your eyes
You want to give our love another try
Im so glad you realize I cant...
Chorus:
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Rap:
Shake it
Your love
Cant shake
Just cant shake your love
Chorus:
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake...
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake..(say shake it)
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake...
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake...
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A piece of white flannel about cricket
Sport is popular. Fine.
Sport attracts sponsorship. Fine.
Sport becomes showbusiness. mmm.
'Pietersen embraced Collingwood on his century
like a footballer'..
I say, old chap, that's just...not cricket...
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!