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The Bard of ECFC

About Rob Casey

Rob Casey is the Bard of ECFC, the club's poet in residence.

As a stand-up poet, writer and performer he can often be seen and heard delivering verse across the city and throughout the southwest, and was until recently the publicly appointed 'Bard for Exeter' for 2016/17.

His work also features on the football podcast 'Mid Table Matters' and he is a regular slam winner and festival act, as well as being the wordy half of the musical duo 'The Least Worst Candidates'.

Rob lectures in Creative Writing at Exeter College and was recently comissioned by the BBC to produce a poem for Devon on National Poetry Day.

Facebook: robcaseywriter Twitter: @robcaseywriter Web:

2017/18 Poems

This Year

This year…is going to be our year.
This season’s the reason we’ve nothing to fear.
We’re gonna win the league, win all the cups,

win every game, lift trophies up.
We’re gonna do a Leicester 
but we’re gonna do it…bester,

‘cos this year…is going to be our year.

All we need’s a proper start,

a decent middle and better end.
And then, yes then,

we’ll have a side

to make the big boys run and hide.

If things come together

then we’re gonna be fine.

It might not click just straightaway,

but we’ll come good in time.

This year…is going to be our year.
This year…

or more likely next year, if we’re honest,

‘cos this’ll probably be more of a transitional year,

what with the ground and the squad and…
ut next year, for sure,

it’ll be our year,
as long as we don’t make a total pig’s ear

of this year.

Oh dear. What if we go down a tier?

This year…

well, who knows?
Let’s just see how it all goes.


When August Comes

Sod the sandcastles
and bringing half the beach back
in our cracks.
Catching crabs? No thanks.
Summer’s just a rest designed to prep us
for the real reason we pass our time.
It’s football season when August arrives.

Yes, when the weather’s fine, there’s still football;
we’ve got football on our minds.

The Test matches might tantalise,
while Wimbledon placates our cries,
but June is dull, and then July
just whets our growing appetite
for the beautiful game.
No, nothing else is quite the same
as when the gossip stops for play;
when August comes around again.
When Saturdays have a purpose;
there’s something to anticipate.
When August comes around again,
it’s finally been worth the wait.

We’re ready. So ready.
The football in our belly’s burning,
yearning for a run out with the sun out.
It’s more fun out when the league’s begun
than snorting pollen by the ton.
It’s all four seasons into one
and kicking off when August comes.
When joy returns to wipe the tears
and hope’s regained once it appears.

By far the most wonderful time of the year:
when August arrives and the football is here.