FULHAM’S FOLLY

 

Outside a football ground in London

At Craven Cottage, the home of Fulham

Stands a statue of Wacko Jacko

Why is it there? I don’t know

What is he doing in West London eh?

Is it because when Fulham play

They are not all black or all white

Not unlike Jackson himself, is that right?

Or is it just that Al Fayed my old lad

You are really barking mad

SUMMER SEASON

 

The summer started oh so well

With a Euro football banquet

Though sadly the home nations

Were unable to attend it

But the Euros inevitably led

To the curse of footie nations

The summer transfer market

And the incessant speculation

After the Euros came Wimbledon

And I cheered on the plucky brit

Then suffered our inclement climate

While being bored by the Cricket

I watched the windblown whingers

Hacking round at the British open

Then courtesy of the highlights

I sat and watched it all again

Then more newspaper talk

Of who will stay and who will go

Who is in and who is out

And more stories about Ronaldo

Two weeks away on the costas

Helped to numb the pain

Then home to more paper talk

And of course more summer rain

Even the upcoming Olympics

Fail to give me inspiration

Thinking of all that track and field

Merely deepens my depression

The only thing to break my torpor

And to rejuvenate my heart

Is to hear that shrill whistle blow

And have the football season start

CRISIS? WHAT IS A CRISIS?

 

The FIFA barons

Just keep getting fatter

The fattest of all are

Warner and Blatter

And despite revelations

And newspaper chatter

The president contends

It’s an internal matter

FIFA # 3

 

The beautiful game,

Is the life blood

Coursing through their veins

These guardians,

These stewards and rule makers

It fills their every waking moment

 

On the other hand

They actually think

 

Football

Is interesting

For

About a minute

TIGER, TIGER - THE TIGER

 

Tiger, Tiger, what a plight

Laying prone out like a light

What mortal hand blacked your eye?

And left you staring at the sky

 

What greater wounds would be

On your bruised and battered body

If your wife had on reflection

Thought carefully about her club selection

HIT FOR SIX

 

A man went to see Doctor Crum

“I've got a cricket ball stuck up my bum.”

“How's that?”

“Don't you start”

LOCAL INQUIRY

 

I rang up my local swimming baths

Asking 'Is that the local swimming baths?'

The reply he received was quite rum

'It depends where you're calling from.'

NEW ANGLES

 

Angling is an ancient pastime
And thousands sit with permit paid
Some stand on the riverbank
Some enter the water and wade
Long held traditions are kept
Yet new innovations are made
As modern anglers try to improve
With every kind of newfangled aid
In wartime when my father was young
And when not fighting or on parade
Was forced as he had no rod and line
To go fishing with a hand grenade

NICE ONE HENRY

 

FIFA are on a mission
Racism in the game they want to defeat
An admirable ambition indeed
But first they need to stamp out cheats
Its spread from normal quarters
To Thierry Henry who to his disgrace
After a shoulder to the chest
Went down holding his face

WINGLESS WONDERS

 

 

Wingless wonders they were named
As world cup winners they are famed
Gordon Banks, played in the goal
For Bobby Moore, the captain’s role
Cohen and Wilson at the back
The Charlton brothers, Bob and Jack
Martin Peters and Alan Ball
Nobby Stiles stood ten feet tall
Roger Hunt scores when he can
And Geoff Hurst the hat trick man
Sir Alf Ramsey teamed them up
And in 66 they won the cup

WINE DOWN UNDER

Don’t buy any Australian wine’s this year

Because since they lost in the World Cup I fear

When we knocked them off their ivory tower

All of their grapes have suddenly gone sour