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EURO-The Football Spirit

What's a ball without a kick
That's almost how we try and trick
Like mountaineers with cold food
We are always down with a football shoot
Craving for the last minute bounce
We end up blowing the goalie down
Football's what we need
Football's what we breathe
That's what we crave for and
That's what we live for
It's the time, it's the year
Only 42 days and we'll clear
the EURO waves and kick it start
with some rocking glory
to end it up with the EURO trophy.

poem by Taanya Khanna
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Football

I'm a football baby,
Rollin' round the field.
I've been passed and fumbled,
Till I don't know what I feel.
Everybody's the same,
They're all footballs too.
Setting up the big play
And trying to score.
I'm a football baby
In a football game
I'm a football baby
Run--kick
Life's a football game,
As every chump and champ knows.
We don't touch, we collide,
Till we're worn out inside.
We're kicking each other,
Right where it hurts,
Setting up the big play,
And trying to score.
I'm a football baby,
In a football game
I'm a football baby,
I'm a football baby,
In a football game
I'm a football baby,
Block--pass
I'm a football baby,
In a football game
I'm a football baby,
Run---kick---hit---goal .

song performed by by Iggy Pop
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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Fire-men

I feel something
Something is rushing straight to me
Not the runner, nor the falling rock-climber
But a round flying object－ yes, a football
I have no enough time to run away, I’ll be hit
But it stops－ thanks to the iron net before me

I, angrily, try to see from the holes of net
About six men, wearing blue clothes of football
Printed with Congshan Fire Brigade
They are practicing shooting
By shooting a small metal plate
Tied tightly on the net

Every time when they kick the ball, they shout
Two words－ but I cannot hear them clearly
One by one, when they hit the target
They cheer, and again kick, hit and shout
As the triumph over the mountain-fire
Caused by a cigarette butt last year

Year in year out, they fight against fire
Honorably, even when they play football
The courage, the braveness, the fire
Flying with the ball, hitting the plate
Yes they win! Finally I hear what they shout
As what is written on that plate: NO SOMKING

poem by Kavin Fang
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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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My Nan wants a game!

My Nan just loves her football
she goes to games every week
but she wants to play as well
saying she's strong and in her peak.
But Nan your in your eighties
and your about six stone wet
you have got two dodgy knees
so how can you put a ball in the net.
Your eyes aren't as sharp these days
and you can't walk without your stick
your out of puff walking up your stairs
so a football you'd struggle to kick.
But she's bought herself a pair of boots
and a nice new shiny football kit
all she needs is a team to play for
as her doctor says she's ready and fit.
So keep an eye out for a white haired lady
the oldest footballer playing the game
she'll be easy to spot on the pitch
as she'll be the one with the Zimmer frame!

poem by Kevin Halls
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This Is The Football Season

This is the football Season it is that time of year
When men in the pub talk football as they enjoy their beer
And look forward to September when one club will fly the winner's flag
The team that wins the Premiership gives their fans the right to brag.

Their wives nicknamed the footy widows their husbands at the football club
Or after work talking football with their mates down at the local pub
They take football so seriously 'tis their passion in life
The footy fan loves his football club as much as his children or his wife.

And if their team lose at the weekend they feel and look so sad
What's known as football addiction they seem to have it bad
They feel sad for their football team and the chance of four premiership points gone
But they cheer up and look forward to next weekend's game as the working week wears on.

This is the football Season football has gone to their head
And their football scarves and beanies they even wear to bed
About their team they feel so passionate as if to them it did belong
And 'tis with delight and pride in victory that they sing the club song.

poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Football Addiction

It can end relationships
make you feel morose,
but it can lift the spirits
and put a spring in the step.
It's the middle of the week
but your minds on Saturday
three o'clock, big game.
No very sorry, can't come
nor to that wedding next week
got three matches in seven days.
A drug? In a way yes, get edgy
feel sick before kick off, but a win
always does the trick.
Why? Why do Climbers climb,
Divers dive, Sailors sail?
It must be in the blood,
in the genes, passed down
from Father to his son.
All I know is I hate it
when there's no Football
get bad withdrawals,
so hurry up the new season
so I can get my Football fix.

poem by Kevin Halls
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Flamengo Team! ! !

i am a little dizzy
little muddled
with the force of your impact
you kick the ball to me
and do your goal

1 X0

I run by green field
to hold the white ball, firmly
you kick in a dishonest way
you are the top scorer
what a stroke!

2X0

I try to spare me
and move quickly towards back
my place is not safe
a direct free kick
green and black of his shirt vibrates

3x0

but i am Flamengo
my colours are black and red
and never surrender run on my blood
My nation is rubro-negra
and certainly is not end this football game

First Time, friend! ! ! ! !

poem by Mirna Morgan
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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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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
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Football, my life

Football is my life
It can be dangerous as a knife
But if you have fun
Anything can be done
Every minute of it
Is worth every hit
Ever touch of the ball
Makes me recall
That goal
That makes football my soul

poem by Estelle Koehler
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Maradona, Maradona, Maradona…

This poem is dedicated to worldwide football fans.

Your left foot had the power
Of a great painter’s brush,
You made the football
To talk to your
Body’s changing moves.
Defenders all over the world
Tried to scare you, tackle you, fowl you,
Could they snatch your external body part,
A football?
You moved like a white lighting
In the dark cloud of opponent's defense;
Other strikers saw opponent's goal post,
You aimed to shoot there,
There was one word that fed you
In your entire football career –
Goal, goal, goal.
Not only Argentine fans
But football lovers worldwide
Were crazy because of you,
You were crazy for them, too.
You risked and sacrificed your body
For the enjoyment of millions of fans
Who saw unarguably best skills of
Dribbling and body movement
In entire football arena.
Some say, you are the football God,
Some say, you are the prince of football,
I say, you are a tiger
In white and Indigo stripes...

poem by Biswajit Ganguly
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Throwin Around That Old Football

Throwin around that old football.
It doesn't matter how big or small.
Just a game of cetch to start the day.
Without any rules to obey.

Throwin around that old football.
And watching it soar.
Oh who could think it a boar.
As it flys through the air.
We continue to stare.
Untill it touches our hands
And there it lands.

Throwin around that old football.
Just playing a little cetch with my friend.
I wish today would never end.
We toss the ball a few times more.
My mom yells from our door
I know we're done
We've had our fun.

poem by Ashlie Olsen
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You May Know A Lot About Your Favourite Game

You may know a lot about your favourite game
And from your commentaries and writings on it you know of wealth and fame
But there's more to life than talking of and writing of football
And about other things you seem to know little at all
By the followers of football your type are well known
And they look up to you as one in a class of your own
They well may be happy your praises to sing
For football to them is an important thing
But by other than me it has been said before
That football is just a game that and little more
For many from life's cares a brief getaway
To cheer on their team in the game of the day
And you football writer and commentator and sporting celebrity
You may seem enlightened to many but not so to me.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Another Football Season

Another Football Season has just commenced having said so just the same
A lot of hype and excitement about a field game
For many from their life problems a relief of sorts
Suppose that's why the establishments created sports.

Some things do seem to change little from year to year
Of football fans discussing football one often does hear
They talk of their Club as if the Club they did own
'Tis from people like them that Football Clubs are grown.

They talk of team ratings and player stats and of last weekend's best on ground
And of who their team are due to play in the next round
And the forward with a goal for the taking who kicked a behind
Next week with the seconds a place he may not find.

Another Football Season commencing the barracker's wife
She does feel neglected but then such is life
He knows about Football and the words of the Club song
And his heart to the Club it does surely belong.

poem by Francis Duggan
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I Remember The Time

I remember the time when the Gaelic Footballers of Millstreet
In the Cork County Senior Championship for the best were a hard team to beat
But time does bring change as some like to say so
And that is going back a few decades ago.

Nowadays with Duhallow's best junior footballers Millstreet cannot compete
The downturn for them one can say is complete
But in sport as in life few things stay the same
And Gaelic Football after all is only a game.

The glory days for Millstreet Gaelic Football may be gone
But in the Town in view of Clara life as usual goes on
Though Millstreet glory days in sport Millstreet people like to recall
There is far more to life than Gaelic Football.

Of the North Cork Gaelic Football Clubs Millstreet were to the fore
And against the County's best they often kicked a winning score
And though no Gaelic Senior Football team in Millstreet today
Life as usual goes on in the Town far away.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Boxing or Football?

What's your favourite sport Kevin?
as you like Boxing and Football
well they're both exciting to me
so that's a hard one to call.
Boxing is a very tough sport
a mixture of brawn and skill
two boxers standing toe to toe
both with the power to kill.
Football is full of passion
the worlds greatest team game
no other comes anywhere near
Cricket is slow boring and tame.
Boxing is not for the faint hearted
you have to be tough and very fit
take punches to the head and body
and bob and weave and avoid getting hit.
Football is played the world over
on the streets and over the park
children kick a ball for hours
in the rain and in the dark.
So if I have to make a choice
Football has to be the sport for me
you get great goals and action
and a packed ground is the place to be.
But Boxing comes a close second
Ali, Tyson, Rocky Marciano, were the best,
beating opponents with skill and guts
but so much better than all the rest.

This question was recently put to me and was hard to answer.

poem by Kevin Halls
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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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