Monday, 20 August 2012

Making the most of it.

The football season is back upon us. To the delight of terraces up and down the land, three lonely months spent twiddling thumbs and watching fringe sports can now officially be called to an end, bringing with it all the energy a new campaign offers. Conversation can default back to sport, brushing away all other emotions as we unite behind common ground for one afternoon a week and spend the other six days arguing about the rest of the league.

Okay, so not everybody will be talking football all of the time. Millions of people couldn't give two hoots. I don't like those people- they're one dimensional, closed. And they don't like football.
There are important lessons to be taken from all of the madness. We will see people embrace positivity and the real difference it can make to their lives. There will be moments of glory, moments of failure and with each of those, we will inevitably examine our own perspectives on things. And then there will be the headlines.
We'll have further reliance upon technology. We'll no doubt have another chance to try and tackle society and racism. There will be sex, drugs, rock and roll. Mental health will come up again. There hopefully won't be another Muamba issue but, if there is, people will be moved and people will question.

Football doesn't have to be just one sided. It isn't a marmite thing, it is something for everyone to enjoy. Spain don't play like Morecambe just as McGough doesn't write like Zepheniah- but, like poetry, there'll be a surprise and enjoyment there for each of us.
Anyone still questioning the cause can always take to their pens, stop reading internet articles and do something else, of course. Shortly after minnows Southampton took an opening day defeat at Manchester City, champions, I couldn't help think back to that short stint Blackpool (my team) spent in the glory days.

Enjoy the poem, and thanks for reading, S.

Giants Away.

Another big decision
Another massive game
Another start, another season
Everything the same.

The ref will always blunder
Defenders will pose as statues
You'll wonder, did he spring that trap
Or play by different rules.

Don't let your heads be beaten
Don't let it spoil your day
Sometime you'll stick em, fair and square
It tastes sweeter that way.

For the big clubs pay the bills son
Keep watching, you will see
It is worth it in the long run
To be covered on TV.


Ashley R Lister said...

Football - personally I couldn't even manage one hoot :-)

But I'm in awe of your enthusiasm for the sport and amazed by the way you can relate it to so much of the important stuff in life.

Good poem. I'm amazed there isn't a local team interested in having you write for them.


Adele said...

Love the poem. Love the Toffees. Come on Everton. See you up there next year Shaun. Fingers crossed.