Greaves

With immaculately Brylcreamed hair
East Ham Cockney with flapping sleeves
Dashing good looks, the mean streak
Welcome to the legend of James Peter Greaves

Hilariously peed on by a dog in Chile
Tickled Garrincha adopted the stray
Then came Pickles and Sixty six
Sir Geoff’s form meant no Jules Rimet

Blindfolded he galloped the trail to goal
Psychic channel to the net unseen
On grainy footage I watched spellbound
No more, no less, a goal-machine

Blue debutant at age seventeen
From East, West, and the land of the Lira
Dreaded by quivering counterparts
But homesick returned to be nearer

So early a hundred grand man
A mere pound away from the brag
The insightful Bill Nicholson
Averting burdens that came with the tag

Twin FA cups in the swinging sixties
UEFA final brace over Madrid’s other team
Top scorer in all of six seasons
Record that still stands supreme

I moved on from black and white TV
Imposed in memory the dart and deft feint
The box offered a weekend high spot
Saturday cult TV with the Saint

Six hat tricks for Queen and country
Behind Sir Bobby and razor Lineker
Yet… still four ahead of Michael Owen
And the tolls of a heavy drinker

West Ham and back to the roots
Brentwood, Chelmsford, and Barnet FC
Afforded a place in the Hall of Fame
Supreme King of the goal spree

Number 7
© Emdad Rahman
www.football-poems.com