It’s All About The Money

In the world of football, it’s not always sunny,
For it’s not about the passion, it’s all about the money.
As we watch the beautiful game, with hope and despair,
The decisions made in its name, seem incredibly unfair.

The World Cup, a spectacle of talent and grace,
But it’s the host nations that we must embrace.
Yet, in this global dance, a truth we cannot deny,
Money drives the choices, while values seem to fly.

From desert sands to distant lands, decisions made,
Not for the love of the game, but for pockets to be paid.
As nations bid, and promises are whispered in the night,
It’s not the fans’ dreams that take flight, but greed’s delight.

For when the rich and powerful cast their influential spell,
They choose the hosts, not for the game, but for profits to swell.
The world watches as principles seem to grow thin,
In the game we adore, where money seeks to win.

So let us not forget, as we cheer and sing,
That football’s heart should not be controlled by the bling.
It’s not funny, it’s all about the money’s cold embrace,
While we dream of a beautiful game, in a more just and fair place.

VAR Controversy

Football fans are becoming ever-more united in their growing hatred of VAR, I’m sure.

In the realm of football, where action unfolds,
VAR exists, or so I’ve been told.
But what does this ref, in the digital sphere,
Truly do when the game’s excitement is near?

Does he play Space Invaders, lost in the past,
While players and fans watch the game’s frantic blast?
Is he chasing high scores as we cry and cheer,
Or focused on justice, making calls crystal clear?

As the ball dances ‘cross the pitch, left and right,
Does he hunt aliens in pixels of light?
Or scans each replay with his all-seeing eye,
To ensure the game’s fairness, where no cheats lie?

In the world of VAR, the mystery remains,
A hidden figure in football’s high-stakes games.
Does he just play, or watch with precision and care?
Only he knows for sure, in that digital lair.

Footy on the Telly

In a room adorned with scarves, and screens so bright,
There sits a man, his heart taking flight.
His eyes fixated on the flickering TV’s glow,
In this world of goals and passion, his spirits aglow.

Weekend after weekend, he’s filled with delight,
As the beautiful game unfolds, a wondrous sight.
His friends call him, invite him out to the park,
But he’s found his joy, watching from his own mark.

The thrill of a goal, the moves so divine,
In football’s embrace, he’s found a goldmine.
His cheers of elation, his laughter’s sweet sound,
Echo through the room, like a love that’s profound.

His family’s birthdays and events are all dear,
But watching the game brings him moments sincere.
He’s found a connection, in fans near and far,
In the world of football, beneath every star.

As seasons change and the years roll on by,
He’s discovered a love that will never run dry.
In the world of the beautiful game, he’s found his decree,
To cherish the joy of watching football on TV.

I Don’t Want To Go To Liverpool

Not about anyone in particular…

In fields of green where passions flare,
A footballer’s heart in crossroads’ glare,
He dreams of goals and victories true,
Yet Liverpool’s call, he must eschew.

The Mersey’s charm may brightly gleam,
But Chelsea’s blues ignite his dream,
He envisions Stamford Bridge’s roar,
Where his ambitions could truly soar.

The Kop may sing with voices strong,
Yet at Anfield’s gates, he does not long,
For it’s the Bridge that calls his name,
Where he believes he’ll find his fame.

In Liverpool’s shadow, he won’t reside,
Chelsea’s colours are his chosen guide,
To Stamford Bridge, his heart’s aligned,
Where he aims to forge a legacy, defined.

The Women’s World Cup

In fields of green, a wondrous sight,
Where prowess shines in pure daylight,
Women’s World Cup, a fierce delight,
Skill, speed, agility take flight.

With every stride, they seize the pitch,
Mastery’s grace in every switch,
A symphony of teamwork’s blend,
Their talents harmonize and ascend.

Oh, watch them weave, a dance so fine,
Power and stance in perfect line,
Their lightning sprints, finesse so true,
In every move, excitement grew.

They dribble past, opponents chase,
Leaving trails of awe and grace,
A testament to hours they’ve spent,
Perfecting moments, strength’s intent.

With heart and soul, they fiercely fight,
For victory, in the vibrant light,
In Women’s World Cup, they proclaim,
The glory of football’s cherished game.

So let’s cheer with joyful glee,
For players bold and spirits free,
In this grand tournament, they prove,
Skill, speed, agility in every move.

Cooling Off Elephant-Style!

In the blazing heat, an extraordinary sight,
An elephant sought respite by the pool’s light,
With grace, he settled down, oh what a thrill,
A massive reader, sipping cocktails with skill.

Amidst the laughter and the scorching sun’s glare,
He turned the pages with his gentle care,
A symbol of coolness in this summer blaze,
An elephant, immersed in words’ embrace.

The onlookers amazed, their jaws dropped low,
As the gentle giant let the hours go,
Lost in the realms of a captivating tale,
His presence alone, a soothing, grand-scale sail.

With each sip he took, his spirits soared high,
His bookish soul took flight, no need to fly,
For in this scene surreal, a lesson to behold,
In the hottest of times, find joy untold.

So, let the world stand still, amazed in glee,
As the elephant reads by the pool with ease,
A wondrous sight, a tale forever to tell,
Of a literary pachyderm’s magic spell.

Wimbledon Rain

In Wimbledon’s hallowed courts, where legends fiercely vie,
The rain poured down relentlessly, clouds filled the sky.
But the crowd, undeterred, with spirit full and bold,
Turned this setback into joy, as a tale soon unfolds.

The tennis balls lay idle, the players took a pause,
Yet laughter echoed through the stands, defying nature’s laws.
Strawberries and cream abound, a sweet and luscious treat,
The taste of summer’s splendour, as raindrops kissed the street.

With umbrellas raised as shields, the crowd began to sing,
Melodies of unity, a joyous offering.
No match could dampen spirits, camaraderie held tight,
As raindrops transformed into notes, a symphony took flight.

And so, rain stopped the play, but not the love we share,
For Wimbledon’s magic lived on, within the rain-soaked air.
The strawberries and cream were savoured, oh, so sweet,
And amidst the sing-song laughter, memories were complete.

Tribute to Joaquin

AI doesn’t handle real events well so this tribute is quite impressive. I struggled to get an AI generated image which I liked, but the one used here to illustrate the poem is ok.

In the realm of football, a legend we find,
Joaquín, the maestro, one of a kind.
With passion and skill, he graced the green,
A true icon of the beautiful game scene.

At Real Betis, his journey began,
A young star rising, a loyal fan.
Winger supreme, with a magical touch,
Joaquín’s artistry, oh, it meant so much.

Valencia called, he spread his wings wide,
Cup triumphs and glory, he stood with pride.
A Málaga detour, a brief sojourn,
But back to Betis, his heart would return.

Captain’s armband, he wore with grace,
Leading his team in a spirited chase.
Promotion achieved, La Liga reclaimed,
Joaquín’s legacy forever ingrained.

His skill with the ball, a joy to behold,
Feints and dribbles, a story untold.
With a smile on his face, he danced with delight,
Inspiring teammates with his shining light.

The Spanish national team he proudly wore,
A warrior on the field, his country he bore.
In tournaments fought, his talent displayed,
Joaquín, a warrior, his mark never fades.

Now his boots are hung, his battles are done,
A career for the ages, a champion he’s won.
We bid farewell to this footballing sage,
Joaquín, forever etched in football’s golden page.

As Joaquín retires, we salute his name,
A legend in our hearts, forever aflame.
For the joy he gave us, the memories we keep,
In the annals of football, his legacy runs deep.

Ascension Day

On Ascension Day they ascend,
The weary steps they must transcend.
Brighton fans, brave souls in flight,
Scaling heights with all their might.

Through trials steep, they forge their way,
Their passion burns, come what may.
Each stride, a testament of love,
Ascending to the skies above.

Their chants resound, their colors fly,
With hearts aflame, they touch the sky.
Though weary, they will not be stopped,
For Brighton’s name, forever locked.

So on this day, their spirits rise,
To Newcastle’s away end, they’ll rise.
Poor souls who struggle, never fall,
Their journey echoes, one and all.

I’ve been Swimming in my Pool

Something different today. I asked ChatGPT to rewrite the lyrics to a famous Madness song. Can you guess which one?!

Verse 1:
I’ve been swimming in my pool, not far from my living room
The sun’s been shining bright, all through the afternoon
The water’s warm and clear, and I feel so alive
Living in Spain, it’s a paradise

Chorus:
I’ve been swimming in my pool, it’s not quite the ocean blue
But it’s mine and it’s fine, and it’s all that I want to do
I don’t need no yachts or jets, or fancy things like that
I’ve got my own oasis, and I’m happy where I’m at

Verse 2:
The neighbors they all stare, and they envy what I’ve got
But I don’t really care, ’cause I’ve got my own spot
To escape the daily grind, and the worries of the day
Living in Spain, it’s the perfect way

Chorus:
I’ve been swimming in my pool, it’s not quite the ocean blue
But it’s mine and it’s fine, and it’s all that I want to do
I don’t need no yachts or jets, or fancy things like that
I’ve got my own oasis, and I’m happy where I’m at

Bridge:
The palm trees sway in the breeze, and the scent of jasmine fills the air
Life is good in this place, where the sun is always there

Chorus:
I’ve been swimming in my pool, it’s not quite the ocean blue
But it’s mine and it’s fine, and it’s all that I want to do
I don’t need no yachts or jets, or fancy things like that
I’ve got my own oasis, and I’m happy where I’m at

Outro:
I’ve been swimming in my pool, and I never want to leave
Living in Spain, it’s the life I’ve come to believe.