Some Foreign Field
by
My travels have taken me to a couple of matches in England. It is fun to see their game and the fans are interested in a Yank who follows "footy." I get asked why I like football and why the rest of America doesn’t.
We aren’t taken too seriously there of course. I was stopped in London by a workman this summer.
"Whose kit is that?"
"U.S. They play Germany today in the World Cup."
"Five-nil," was his disparaging prediction.
I grinned back at him. "I’d take those odds if I were you."
His mood changed and he made a fist. "Stuff ‘em for us!"
If only we had . . .
Soccer
Fields Near Padua
~Anne Harding Woodworth
Near Padua
the oval fields stretch wetly green and mown;
and at the museum, a Greek
heads the ball
on a terra cotta plate,
Those
Base Football Players
~H. Edtheborl
Wonderful thing soccer, on the one hand it's probably done more to introduce disparate cultures to a shared rule system, (offside, penalties etc), than any religion that ever existed. Ironically, at the same time, it divides nation from nation, town from town, and, in instances such as Liverpool versus Everton, Celtic versus Rangers and AC Milan versus Inter Milan, pits parish against parish in bitter rivalry. Rather like religion I suppose. However, when you consider the time that it took Christianity, Islam and Buddhism to reach their zenith in terms of geographical dominance, then the rapid growth of football from its origins in medieval England to its near global exposure is nothing short of miraculous.
The Girl Can Play
~ Ric Miller
She moved into town early in 1988. Coming from Virginia or North Carolina--somewhere from that part of the country--she had already played at a higher level of soccer than was offered girls in this part of the country. But she lived now in Florida's panhandle, Pensacola to be exact, and club soccer was just in its beginnings for boys. The few girls that wanted to play could hold their own with guys and that's where they played, with guys.
"First Goalllllllllllllll!!!"
Forza Lazio, Forza Roma
~ Marilyn Knapp Litt
I am new to soccer, but the second game I attended was a derby between crosstown rivals, Lazio and Roma, in Rome's Olympic stadium. It was my introduction to Italy, to the passion of European football, and to the specialized language of soccer, a derby being a match between two teams from the same town. Photo
Cemetery, June 1994
St. James, Brittany, France
~Anne Harding Woodworth
The first two graves anticipate us,
Relegation
~by a Padova Supporter
When your soccer team is relegate a little part of your life (but a part of YOUR life!) changes. Is like when you change your home and go in a poorest neighbourhood, or when you sell your car and buy a bicycle.
Baggio at the Net
~Scott T. McAllister's Poetry
The match was long and hot, on that July, Sunday.
Soccer in the Mean Streets
~ Marilyn Knapp Litt
The World Cup came to town and I interviewed for a volunteer position. Despite my dressing up and presenting a pleasing manner, the World Cup committee had no need of my services. Later I met a successful applicant who was in charge of watching cars in small parking lot. My soccer self-esteem was at an all-time low.
The League of Champions ~1996
~ Ethan Fry's Poetry
The journey started with many a team
