Duncan Edwards 2,223 Posted August 6, 2015 Twas the night before Football,when all through the houseNot a creature was moaning, not even the spouse.Lucky pants were hung on the radiator with care,To ensure three points and that my bum wasn’t bare.The eldest was nestled all snug in his bed,While visions of Hoolahan danced in his head.And Mother retired, I search out a night capTo just settle my nerves for that long, last nap.When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,I sprang from the bed to see bloody Sepp Blatter.Away to the window I flew like a flash,Tore open the shutters and threw out some cash.The moon lit up the grass like a floodlit pitchAs Sepp scuttled away, immeasurably richWhen, what to my wondering eyes should appear,But a miniature Scotsman, all fight and no fear.With a confidence that you could veritably feel,I knew in a moment it must be Mr Neil.So fast were the players that they looked to be blurred,And he whistled, and shouted, and had a wee word!"Now Redders!, Now Grabbs! Now,Cameron and Olsson!On, Whitts! On Jacob!, On, on! Give it to Johnson!!!From the top of the Champ, to the top of the tops!!We’ll bash away, bash away, pull out all the stops!”" Rested, recovered, ready for anotherthirty eight fights,Set to overcome obstacles and toclimb to new heights.So up to the house-top the playersclambered and leaptAs Alex negotiated the pond,without sinking he stepped And then, with a dull thud, I heardon the roofA player from Ipswich, I could tellby the HOOF!I shook my head and drew thecurtains as you wouldWhen to my surprise, behind me AlexNeil Stood He was dressed in the third kit,from his head to his toe,“When else will we wear it?” (Weall want to know)With antiquated tactics in a sackflung on his backHe said “These are McCarthy’s, nowonder they’re cack!” His eyes – how they twinkled,belying that icy cold stareSaved for stupid questions, or if aref needs a glareHis droll little mouth was drawn upreally tight,No time for small-talk or any o’thatauld shite He looked like he could wrestle acroc with his teethBut one look at our Alex and thecroc would have no beefHe’d see he’s fierce but fair andwould know not to crossNorwich City’s latest youngsuperstar boss Neil’s not big in stature but hispresence is massiveAlive to everything and in no wayis he passiveWith a wink of his eye and a wordin my earIt was quickly apparent that we’dnothing to fear He spoke so well, was meticulous inhis wayHe filled me with confidence as we approachedthe dayWhen the training stopped and thereal stuff beganThen with a nod and a wink, out of thehouse he ran Sprang into action and gave thewhole squad a whistleThey assembled quickly, a mass ofskill, graft and gristleAlex looked back as the playersjogged off in a line“Happy Football Day, Dunc, we’ll bejust fine.” Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
ca 1 Posted August 6, 2015 Very good Duncan, knew you were a good writer but didn''t know you were a budding poet too lol Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
KoromaCrab 0 Posted August 6, 2015 Would be amazing if before kick off... just before ''On the Ball'' was sung that the stadium went to a early quiet... ... then suddenly a deep voice reads this poem slowly. all the crowd listening and the players in the tunnel... then... "The Barclayy, the Jerrold, the N&P and the City stand... lets have it!"KICK IT OFF THROW IT IN... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Katie Borkins 1 Posted August 7, 2015 Good work. Funny.You lose the rhythm in a few places but easily fixable.Send it to the local rag for a "Poets Corner" special. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Lessingham Canary 99 Posted August 7, 2015 Really enjoyed that, what a great start to the season, well written. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites