Goal

This post comes a day late, just as England has left Euro 2012 which was unsurprising, I gather, from those of my friends who follow football.  One of the things I am very much enjoying about writing this blog (albeit sporadically) is that, similar to joining a book club, I am forcing myself to read things that I wouldn't usually read; despite having very few people who follow this, I assume that not everyone will want to read what I tend to read, and I'm therefore exploring new themes and new poets.  

And on a new theme, tonight's poem is about football.  


Goal, by Phillip Gross

One flash and no looking back, that 
 moment, soundless,
through the plate-glass frontage 
of the big-screen (Catch The Big Game 
  BIGGER!) bar: some 

goal! has lifted them clean off their bar stools,
 and out of themselves, 
their mouths wide, like one full-on 
gust of wind; there may be words 
  and, somewhere, losers 

(in some mirror-image bar) but here, 
 now, he’s untouchable—
one lad in the dozen, a tad doughy 
where his cheap kit top rides up, but hey, 
  a good half-metre skyward 

as if hoisted by his high-flung fists—
 Ye-e-es!—launched  
like a toddler from a rough grip 
under armpits, as if gravity had shrugged 
  and dad’s glasspaper grin 

could be always below, great laughter
 like God’s, without words 
in any language, without rights or wrongs 
or sides to fall back into. Why else 
  can we dream of flying, 

unless we were made for this?

I find that this poem sums up the energy, the exhilaration, of football.  I only feel this when England is playing, out of simple national pride, but I think the poem also reflects what devoted fans feel during matches, and equally what players must feel too.  There is much focus on the moment, and for a game that moves fairly quickly, that feeling of the here and now is captured perfectly.  If you look carefully, the whole poem is almost one long sentence,and this gives it a breathy quality - you have to say it fast to say it in one line, which emphasises the excited feel of it.  There's a quality of 'greatness', with the reference to "laughter like God's", and the idea of being above language, right or wrong - I think this can refer to the immense power that a football player must feel, the triumphant moments when a whole nation is watching and you're winning.  I love the last line, too - when everything is going wonderfully and you're doing something you love, you certainly feel as if you're flying and you're made for it.