Track & Field*

I’m feeling slightly overwrought By serial footage of competitive sport… As if the football season Was not sufficient reason For sitting on the sofa, glued to the screen Wondering what might happen And then, what might’ve been; Not really understanding the draw, Much less, the business of keeping score Until I caught crossed paths with […]

Armchair Linesman*

Wimbledon’s just now done and dusted. Plenty there to be deconstructed, Watching the re-runs and slo-mo clips In between the fish and chips… I really just don’t get it at all, The human need to chase a ball, Historically linked by convolution To hunter-gathering evolution, The basic need for proteined food A focus for the […]

Sports Day*

Sports Day… A muffled hooray Belying an inner sense of dismay, The prospect of showing how very unable I ever was in a competitive stable. Couldn’t do anything sporty at all, Except perhaps an inelegant fall… My ‘sports education’, if you’d call it that, To be given a ball and sometimes a bat And simply […]

League Division *

Every since I was a young girl I watched lads chase the ball From playground to park to stadium and even the church hall(!)¹ My father tried to interest me, my brother having failed To raise his enthusiasm for this game of Alpha Males. (That said, he followed suit with a love of ballroom dancing, […]

Premier League*

The telly’s awash with men in shorts Like some bravado holiday resort. Huffing and puffing and snorting abound, The expletives deleted by techies on Sound The video editors nimble of finger Swift with the cuts so the hurt doesn’t linger Except, of course, when there’s foulness of play When it’s really quite obvious what players […]

Premier League Pageantry*

Sometimes I wonder… Is kit colour a blunder¹ That silently kills The strongest of wills When paraded on a football team? The game that’s every mans’ man’s dream Suddenly a rainbow flourish Supposed to stimulate and nourish Ardour beyond imagination With victory for village, town or nation. Twenty-two ebullient chaps Getting themselves in a bit […]

Sports Widow

I wonder, Do you remember me? I’m the one you rarely see, Sitting somewhere quite close-by Quietly, pointlessly, wondering why I’ve allowed myself to get stuck like this In a weekend of Sports-Fan-Takes-The P*ss, A game of circular repetition That leaves me in the fall-back position Of shaping what little free time I’ve earned According […]