Spirit of Suárez comes back to haunt Liverpool in epic poem

Cosmic irony of Costa controversy eludes Reds fans everywhere.

The Spirit of Suárez lives on in Diego Costa
DEVILRY: Suárez (Image: Paulblank)

Liverpool were last night dumped out of the League Cup by a Chelsea side spearheaded by the Spirit of Suárez himself, Diego Costa, in a sort of cosmic irony that appeared to elude Reds fans worldwide.


As usual, a Liverpool fan was stationed in every pub across the UK, mainland Europe, most of Asia and vast swathes of Africa in order to recite home-spun poems of worship while gazing mistily-eyed into the distance clutching a three-quarters-drunk pint of 4% lager.

Speaking exclusively to Football Burp just moments after the final whistle blew on last night’s League Cup semi-final second leg at Stamford Bridge, the one at our local chugged the lion’s share of his Carling and cleared his throat coarsely.

He began: “One cold, hard, Cockney winter, when the floodlights shone down bright
Our brave Red men was robbed on League Cup semi-final night
A cheating South American who studded people’s ankles
Was but one factor of a defeat that still truly rankles

We came into the match on an unbeaten run of eight
We knew there could be penalties, we’d have to stay up late
But what with Super Stevie set on banishing his ghosts
I knew we could beat Chelsea, who were playing as the hosts

The slip that played in Demba Ba and crushed our title dream
Still wakes me in the middle of the night and makes me scream
But this time he would make us proud and set the record straight
One last hurrah, until he comes back on loan via the States

But one conniving South American proved our undoing
And screwed us, knowing very well what it was he was doing
At first he stamped on Emre Can, and then on Martin Skrtel
And he was lucky not to be booked when to ground he hurtled

I’d never seen such devilry, such brazen disregard
For the rules and spirit of football, and pride of Ste Gerrard
No Red I’ve ever known of would have brought shame on the club
For going out to cause harm like some nutter in a pub

Yes, like that. I mean no, not like that. Stop spreading propaganda, softlad, I’m doing a recital here.


Our brave Red warriors came very close to snatching victory
A suitable and wondrous Super Stevie valedictory
But Branislav Ivanovic got his head on a set piece
And sealed the kind of night that I would rather just forget, please

But oh how close our Red men came to immortality
The FA Cup? If you ask me, it’s a formality
So here’s to Brendan and the lads, to their impending glory
Goodnight from me, the self-styled Kopite alehouse Jackanory.”

No one sober was available for comment.