Sport

Poem 534 – Blue Shoes, Not Suede

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Two impulse buys invited me to spend:
First up, a secondhand gold saxophone;
Second, running shoes, bright blue, not suede.
The running shoes were cheaper and so won.

I tried them out this lunchtime in the sun.
Putting them on reminded me of times
When I have run before; the burst of life
That it provides, the surging exhilaration.

A weightless circuit around the local lake,
Feet lifting lightly with the new shoe bounce.
And as I run I wonder if the sax
Would have been so easy. Still tempted though…

Two shopping options from our recent time away.
(02.06.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by James Lee on Unsplash

Poem 526 – Hansen & Van Dijk

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From one giant to another,
colossi in defence,
composed and fleet of foot,
poetic in elegance.

Well versed in form and motion,
bewitching with their rhyme,
possessing the canny knack,
of arriving just in time.

These masters of their art,
one hand on either handle,
bridging generations,
the passing of the mantle.

Liverpool FC were awarded the Premier League Trophy today, with a hero of my childhood, Alan Hansen, passing the trophy to Virgil van Dijk, a hero of today.
(25.05.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Source of photo unknown

Poem 524 – Celebrating Life

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On your marks…. Go!
So off we went, a drumming
river flowing round
the field in endless circles.

Some formed gentle eddies,
whilst others became torrents,
crashing waters surging
forwards with urgency.

Let’s run with zest the Head
had said and so we did,
with cheers and tears and joy,
remembering why we ran.

We poured until our muscles
ached and lungs were spent,
then flung ourselves upon
the shore in celebration.

I joined a local primary school for their annual run to remember a further student who sadly passed away. As always the pupils and community were great.
(23.05.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Mina Rad on Unsplash

Poem 482 – Pètanque

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SMACK! Smashed gravel flies.
A shower of shards are scattered
as the boule descends.

Crashing into its target,
it sends it scything across
the crunching gravel court.

With pumping fists, the players
cheer, opponents groan,
their pole position lost.

One final fling, all hope
is pinned on nicking the nearest
boule placed by the jack.

A pause for silent prayer
before the bending player
looses their last chance…

Today we spent a lovely sunny time with friends, culminating in a tight hand of petanque. We lost, joy won.
(11.04.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Caroline Hernandez on Unsplash

Poem 450 – But I Did

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I didn’t mean to visit the shop
I didn’t mean to go inside
I didn’t mean to check the prices
I didn’t mean to try for size
I didn’t mean to chat to the attendant
I didn’t mean to ask for advice
I didn’t mean to search reviews
I didn’t mean to buy a bike…

Our local bike shop is closing down, and it would have been rude not to. I shall miss them, they’ve been very helpful over the last few years.
(10.03.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Wayne Bishop on Unsplash

Poem 447 – Bike Free

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Pedalling smoothly, my wheels begin to pur,
a low contented growl from spinning cranks.
My muscles sing. I playfully leap and bound.
I am transposed, at one with my bike, man
and machine conjoined to make the King of the Road.

The sun is out and I needed to make a visit to the local hospital, and so it seemed the perfect chance to take the bike for a spin. It felt good.
(07.03.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Josh Nuttall on Unsplash

Poem 421 – Fourth Round

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Here’s to the underdog,
For taking your chance,
For standing up straight,
And repelling the advance.
For keeping your heads,
Despite losing your teeth,
Miraculous saves,
As the fans start to scream.
Here’s to the underdog,
On overcoming the trial,
And ending on top,
The great Plymouth Argyle!

As a Liverpool fan, it pains me to say it, but hats off to Plymouth today – especially their two new defenders and goalkeeper who were brilliant. I loved the celebrations at every tackle made, it said a lot about the spirit that the new manager has brought to them.
(09.02.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Daniel Norin on Unsplash