A Football Poem For Football Fans: Why We Love This Game

We love the thrills. We love the feels. We love the sweet sensation of victory and the piercing pain of defeat. We love the euphoric highs, and the humbling lows, the happiness money can’t buy, and the hurtful blows. 

We love the passion. We love the electric atmosphere of the Kop, the roaring thunder of the Yellow Wall, the booming cheers of Stretford End. The bellowing demands of the managers, the rousing cajoles of the crowd, the desperate shouts of the players. 

We love van Persie’s flying dutchman. We love Rooney’s bicycle kick. We love Quaresma’s trivela. We love Carlos’ free-kick. We love Gotze’s heroics in Rio. We love the Miracle of Istanbul. We love Leicester defying the odds. We love Manchester United’s treble. We love Barcelona’s sextuple. We love Real Madrid’s three-peat. 

We love the power of the game, bringing entire cities, countries, continents to a standstill for 90 minutes. We love the unity, strangers singing, chants, and prayers up in arms, celebrating like old friends for a goal. We love the beauty, the fireworks, and flames, the momentous yells at the opening ceremony, the passionate singing of anthems and chants, the tears of joy as the captains lift the trophies. 

We love Iniesta. We love Zlatan. We love Modric. We love Beckham. We love Ramos. We love Cruyff. We love Maldini. We love Pele. We love Totti. We love Maradona. We love Neuer. We love Gerrard. We love Vidic. We love Aguero. We love Ronaldo. We love Messi. 

We love the acceptance. We love that deep-running feuds between bloodlines are forgotten, large yokes of debt are forgiven, and magnanimous odes of love are gifted, all in the name of this game. We love that everyone – old and young, black and white, can enjoy this game. 

We love this game. 

We love this game not just because it is a beautiful game. 

But because it is the beautiful game.