March 16, 2012

Let’s sink a few pints in the bar tonight

And forget all our worries and cares

Then follow them up with some chasers

Brandy, or whisky…… who cares?

 

Let’s all get legless and abusive,

And chant to our hearts content.

Then on the way home have a curry,

And say what a good night we’ve spent.

 

Tomorrow we’re out at the ‘footy’ match

But we meet in the pub at twelve

And sink three more pints, ah, that’s better!

Again into our pockets we delve.

 

I think I might have a pork pie,

Or maybe I might even have two.

That should take me up to half time,

When I’ll have two more pints – it’s true!

 

I probably won’t know what the result is,

When the game finally comes to a close.

As I usually drop off in the second half

And have a bit of a doze.

 

On the way home I pass the hot dog stand

And I normally have two of those.

 They set me up for the night you see,

A Saturday night on the town.

 

When I’ll probably have a pint of Guinness,

Or maybe a Newky Brown.

I always have a bag of pork scratchings,

And another pint to wash them down.

 

Then I might have a Bailey’s chaser,

If I get into that kind of mood.

Before I call off at the Chippy,

Oh, how I do love my food.

Last week when I ambled home,

I was glad to reach our gate.

I had such pains in my arms and chest,

I think it was something I ate!

 

Sunday lunch at the pub is just great,

We take bets who can drink the most.

I’d tell you that I always win,

But I really don’t want to boast.

 

These pains in my chest have come back,

And I can’t seem to get rid of this cough.

I’m just out to have my last supper

Before they carry me off.

 

 

March 11, 2012

The Director of Football

The top man and coach

The Chairman with money

Who the Gaffer must approach

The band of supporters

Loyal men and true

The match day officials

Who can make dreams come true

Or ruin them too, in the blow of a whistle

The linesman so blind he can

Make your hairs bristle

The waterlogged pitch

The game sadly abandoned

The Park frozen so hard

The players hardly can stand on

The ups and the downs

The banter and ranting

Make Saturday what it is

Win or lose fans are chanting

 

 

March 10, 2012

The pies and the pasties

The lukewarm tea

The foul-mouthed chanting

Unfit for him at my knee

The queue for the loo

Each man desperate to pee

The cheer from the crowd

The excitement, the glee

The disallowed goal

Scored all in vain

The deafening drumbeat

Of the insane

The missed handball

The Ref’s a ‘gobbin! ’

Sing fifty thousand

Men all sobbin

The desperation

the ‘off-side’ rule

The bloody idiot

The stupid fool

The player was king

A minute ago

Now he’s sent off

for a vicious blow

Then the debut kid

Gets a yellow card

For an eager tackle

Too late by a yard

 And at the end

Time’s added on

But by then

Half of them

Have gone

Some ecstatic

Some bereft

The winning goal

Was outright theft

They rant and rave

And say ‘no more’

But come next week

Into grounds they pour

With hopes renewed

And faith restored.

 

 

February 26, 2012

 

An open goalmouth

What is the lad doing?

His shot went wide

And had the crowd booing

 

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