It’s not the same. A poem by Stephen Knox

It’s not the same,
This football,
This beautiful game,
No footfall through the turn styles,
No ‘ooh aah Cantona,’
No chants, no rants about the referee,
Or what his parentage might be.

It’s not the same without you there,
You are missed,
Each match lost
In the empty echoes of crowdless caverns,
The silent Zoom-in faces,
Sixty thousand belting out United’s anthems.

There is no atmosphere here,
In a stadium dispossessed,
A lifeless, soulless contest,
Noise piped out like muzak,
Unconvincing, unfulfilling, it’s lack
Of pride and passion,
Mutes this day’s football ration.

And when a goal is scored,
Watch enfeebled celebrations,
No standing Stretford End ovations,
No adoration from the Kop,
No singing songs to Jurgen Klopp,
No goalmouth gasps or exhaled groans,
When footballs’ fans walk alone.

It’s not the same. It’s just not.


If interested, you can see more of Stephen’s work on youtube, simply search for ‘Stephen Knox poems’ where there are videos of him reciting his work on all matter of subjects, serious and light.

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