The Greatest Game

August 23, 1919
Five years ago, the German at his height,
Swept o’er the Plains of Flanders like a flame

We conscious of the danger of his might,
Foresook our football for the greater game.

Once more we find September near at hand,
Heralding football with a clam’rous roar.

Peace reigns again! And over all the land,
The King of Sports mounts to his throne once more.

Again the multitudes will fill the ground,
Again we’ll hear the crowd’s tumultuous shout.

As some sharp forward catching a rebound,
Shows the defence he knows what he’s about!

In unity we’ll see each time combine —
Each for his side, without a thought of fame.

The comradeship which took us to the Rhine,
And made us victor in the greater game.

Some sour unsporting cranks without a soul,
Rejoiced, because they thought the game had dies.

They scorned our rapture when we score a goal,
Thought we were mad because we cheered a side.

But out in France and Flanders every day,
We played our game of football just the same!

Returning once again to watch, or play,
Not now the greater, but the greatest game!

– By Scribe.
(Source: Liverpool Echo: August 23, 1919)


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