The Jules Rimet


So now the thing is over
all the pundits have gone back home
and the Rimet Trophy has been put away
to be played for again another day
some managers will now lose their teams
for not fulfilling a nation’s dreams.

But it is football, just a game
men paid so much, disgraceful shame
while others struggle to put food on the table
players cavorted like Betty Grable
but we watched it still – we cannot stop
I wonder when the penny will drop.

I remember pictures in black and white
when games were played in failing light
where players had jobs to earn their pay
and played the game on Saturday
where then the ref’s decision was law
and players didn’t roll round on the floor.

Those days are gone and that’s for sure
the balls were heavy and kit was poor
but player’s hearts were in the game
and not the glory of fleeting fame
when celebrity wasn’t theme of the day
for men oft found to have ‘feet of clay’.

©Joe Wilson – The Jules Rimet 2014

I can still remember Franz Beckenbauer playing on after breaking his arm, simply by wearing a  black sling to support it…a sight you wouldn’t see today.

Teenage boys can be cruel


Sometimes we return to long ago conversations
where more than cross words were uttered
where protagonists squared up to one another
and arguments and insults were uttered.

And when with the benefit of hindsight,
that most magical and wondrous thing
we realise often how wrong we were
and the knowledge of embarrassments sting.

If we could just take back those words
that were aimed to wound so deep
knowing how they’d hit their mark
and said to make someone weep.

In those teenage years, how cruel we were
how very little of life we knew
how gentle and forgiving our heart’s desire
how slow the understanding – in young men grew.

I’m now a man – three score and five
a man who love has touched so deep
but I colour now as I think back
at my cruelty then and I want to weep.

For almost fifty years I’ve loved just one
kindness flows through her every pore
I’ve strived to make up for those teenage years
and she just smiles and then loves me more.

My luck has held, we’ve stayed the course
I pinch myself to check I can still feel
and she looks and smiles at me and I know
it’s not a dream and it’s still real.

©Joe Wilson – Teenage boys can be cruel 2014