Poem 691 – Belief

I hear they’re calling it Slottage Time,
That moment in the dying breath,
When time stands still and waits and waits,
Until the ball flies in the net.

Perhaps we’re riding on a wave
Of luck that surely must run out,
But until then we wait and wait,
And wait for it without a doubt.

It might be nice for once to win
Before the extra time is shown
Not needing to wait on and on
Until the final kick flies home.

‘But where’s the fun in that?’ I say
There’s nothing like the adrenaline rush
From tension building up and up
Exploding with the final touch.

For the fifth time in fife games, Liverpool somehow managed to win tonight in the final moments of the match. It’s now no longer a surprise but expected.
(17.09.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Chris Knight on Unsplash

Poem 575 – Hansen & Van Dijk

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 366 – Currently 2-0

I should be writing a poem,
But it’s been a busy day,
Dealing with toddlers,
Shifting food,
Discussing the Bible,
Talking to church members,
Now the day’s done, and
Liverpool are beating Madrid,
So this will have to do.

Hopefully that’s game, set and match (to mix sports!)
(27.11.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Jannes Glas on Unsplash

Poem 99 – 21 Goals

One arched iconic stadium
Welcomes two rivals to the pitch
With many in supporting roles
Holding up the thirty-two who play
The eighty thousand roaring on
Their hearts racing the ninety endless
Thrilling minutes then thirty more
Joyful, relentless and exhausting
And then as one they pause…
                                                      …breath held
As players line up one by one
In legal torture to decide
(this was always bound to be)
But surely none saw this ending
That after all those goalless minutes
The game would end with twenty scored
Leaving the goalies to decide
The outcome with a shot apiece
With trusted youngster shooting sure
And wily veteran striking high

It’s always tense being a Liverpool fan following a final, we never do it the easy way, but that was ridiculous(ly wonderful)!
(28.02.22)

© Ben Quant 2022