I was wondering,
Why does a Frisbee
Appeared larger and
larger
Then it hit me
To my chest my hands I clasp
I deeply breathe, I
wheeze and gasp
My temples throb, my
mouth is dry
My heart beats fast,
I’m going to die
My voice has gone, my throat
is sore
My hands both shake, I
can take no more
I lay my head, upon my
knee
Now blow the whistle
Referee
When I first got into athletics
A hurdle scared me a
bit
But with dogged
perseverance
I managed to get over
it
I’m a very courageous
Sportsman, basically
As it takes a lot of
balls
To play Golf like me
Norbert Peter Stiles
18th May 1942 – 30th October 2020
Norbert Peter Stiles
Was his given name
A diminutive figure
But a giant in the game
Fearless on the pitch
Fearsome and ferocious
But away from the game
Gentle and humorous
I remember fondly
England’s greatest day
And I remember Nobby
At the end of play
With his spindly legs
And gap-toothed smile
Because no one danced
Like our Nobby Stiles
Exercise is a good thing
Pushing your body
physically
It can take many forms
I like cycling
particularly
I like golf and
swimming
I like long walks,
especially
When they are taken by
People who annoy me
Manchester United’s underground
Heating hasn’t been
restored
So they’re planning to
rename
The stadium Cold
Trafford
Tottenham Hotspurs emblem
Is a cockerel that the
fans don
And as the emblem is a
bird
The supporters egg
them on
A striker and a magician
Clearly have in common
An almost instinctive
ability
To do hat tricks
effectively
One of my teachers is a runner
He does it fanatically
But I don’t have him
for PE
I love it when we beat the Aussies
It’s a bit of a
passion of mine
Because they are such
bad losers
I’m way up on cloud
nine
I like to ask them,
“Would you like
Some cheese with that
whine?”
When I saw Mr Messi play
I was disappointed I
must say
I had to take a second
look
But he was nothing
like in the book
My Boss doesn’t go to the gym
But it’s not a case of
him being slack
He gets all the
exercise he needs
Just by stabbing
people in the back
Now the evidence is viewed
And the enquiry will
conclude
That Suarez is totally
screwed
But what I think is
rude
Is that he plays with
his food
In nineteen fifty-three
The Magyars came to
play
Bamboozling Billy
Wright
The Beckham of his day
When Puskás dragged back
He made Billy Wright
esquire
Look like a fire
engine
Heading towards the
wrong fire
On 25 November 1953,
at Wembley Stadium
England 3 Hungary 6, Ferenc Puskás scored twice
Luis Suarez thought the response
To his biting Chiellini
quite amazing
He couldn’t understand
the outcry
As for a cannibal he
was only grazing
Whether you call him Lucho
Or El Pistolero
Or the
cannibal of Ajax
Or even
El Conejo
Suarez needs
to understand
Biting
people is a no no
Are you wearing football socks?
Well yes you’ve got
the right team
But you have forgotten
to wear
The rest of the kit it
would seem
My Dad doesn’t go to the gym
He has no need of their
facilities
As he gets all the
exercise he needs
Just by dodging his
responsibilities
If footballers spent more time
Training and practising
their skills
Instead of feeling the
sting
Of the tattoo artists
drills
They would gain the
fans respect
Instead of looking like
utter pills
Are you wearing a football shirt?
I like lady footballers
for my sins
My only regret in your
regard
Is you choose shirts instead of skins
Suarez should be hungry
Like all strikers
But for goals
And not for other
players
I think today’s professional footballers
Worry far too much
about their hairstyle
And should pay as much
attention to detail
On the training ground
once in a while
Back in 66
When I was just a boy
I was full of pride
Watching Nobby’s jig
of joy
And when Bobby Moore
Was raised shoulder
high
Holding the World Cup
It made every Scotsman
cry
My wife doesn’t go to the gym
She’s the fittest lass
around
As she gets all the exercise
she needs
Just from running
people down
Horsey Claire Balding
Is always with a nag
I think she looks like
Stephen Fry in drag
Are you wearing a tired expression?
There is also a hint
of depression
I recognize that look
on a man
You’re a Manchester United
fan
FIFA has been ineffectual
In its fight against
Racism
In stark contrast with
the rise
Of pan European
Fascism
Who seem more likely
to
Kick football out of
Racism
Back in 1966
When I was just a boy
I was full of pride
Watching Nobby’s jig
of joy
And when Bobby Moore
Was raised shoulder
high
Holding the World Cup
We all began to cry
My wife doesn’t go to the gym
She’s as skinny as a
candle
As she gets all the
exercise she needs
Just from flying off
the handle
He’s an instinctive player
A natural and
prodigious talent
Or so they say, I
think its
More by luck than judgment
I was driving home after the match
Listening to the
report on the BBC
It was described as a
fascinating contest
Which surprised the
hell out of me
Far from being an
interesting match
It was the most boring
thing you could see
If Nani was in your team
Would you enjoy his
flare?
Well, I can tell it
has its place
But he just shows off
to be fair
If your team is doing well
You can carry a player
with flare
But if they’re doing
badly
He’s no more than a
waste of air
We have a great Scottish international
By the name of Jim
McKee
Well, when I say he’s Scottish
His parents once went
to Dundee
My mate asked me why
I’m a United fan
I replied that it was
Because my brother Dan
Supported the Reds,
Also, my dad was a
United man
And my mum was a
Lifelong United fan
So that was why I was
also
A Man United fan
“That’s ridiculous” he
said
“What if your brother
was a thug?
Your mum was a
prostitute
And your dad was on
drugs
What would you be
then?
You poor misguided
fool?”
“Well obviously” I replied
“Then I'd support
Liverpool”
It was a bad winter Olympics First it was the Luge I had a go at Then I found myself on thin ice Following some aggressive chat Th...