Treasure Island

Kaspa Richards

(29/08/1988 / London, England)

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!

Submitted: Tuesday, February 16, 2010

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  • Pink Butterfly ... (2/16/2010 5:07:00 AM)

    Nice piece! ! ! I am not an athletic person but your poem is just lovable that I felt like playing while I'm reading it. Good job! God bless! ! ! (Report) Reply

  • Anthony Han (2/16/2010 4:20:00 AM)

    Even though i never played football that much, this reminds me of how fun it was. (Report) Reply

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