IF ENGLAND WIN THE WORLD CUP
After Tim Henman’s poor show at Wimbledon, despite a poem in support of his efforts by the Borkowski poet in residence, it is to be hoped that the England football squad can do a bit better this weekend and that these words of encouragement will help…
If England win the World Cup
there’ll be riots in the streets
of little old ladies marching out
and tangling up their pleats
in all the beer boys who’ll celebrate
by falling over drunk.
For one whole week there’ll be no school
and the workforce will do a bunk
and everyone will party
in the rainbow coloured streets
all frolicking and innocent
like it’s 1966
Churches will be empty
there’ll be no need for prayer
even God will be off duty –
he’ll be in the Fox and Hare
having a pint with the regulars
and discussing Rooney’s goals.
“Yes,” he’ll say if questioned,
“football can save souls.”
If England win the World Cup
Time will take a rest
so it can watch the parades on telly
and keep itself abreast
of all the minute happenings
in the life of David Beckham
who’ll be knighted, sainted, wrapped in aspic
and given the keys to Peckham –
“because it rhymes” the mayor will say,
a wry smile on his face
before gathering up all his newts
in patriotic embrace.
If England win the World Cup
celebrity culture will die out
it won’t just be the beautiful
who carry all the clout.
Rio Ferdinand and Ashley Cole
will be leading the UN
and all the men in England
will be dressing just like Sven.
Jude Law will take up football
and, to give their career some gloss,
the goalposts at the next World Cup
will be Nicole Kidman and Kate Moss.
If England win the World Cup
there’ll only be good news
peace will break out overnight –
penitent Palestinians and apologetic Jews
will get to grips in the Gaza Strip
to untangle all their hate
and in Iraq the armies will suddenly hold
an enormous village fete
with cricket in the bombsites
and tea amongst the rubble.
All the trouble spots in the world
will suddenly want for trouble.
If England win the World Cup
there’ll be chariots of fire
driven by happy English men
wearing their Nike shoes of desire
and the team will be immortalised
in bronze by Damien Hirst.
There’s only one thing standing in the way –
they’ve got to beat Portugal first…