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The Formation Not Taken is a poem that parodies Robert Frost’s The Road Not Taken. I wrote this for my late father who was just short of 94 when he died. The one thing we had in common, which lasted until his death, was an interest in football, although it’s an understatement to say we disagreed about most things in football.
As I write this the Euros are in full swing and this got me thinking about the type of conversations we would have about England’s chances of winning the trophy. I would always ask him how he thought England would get on. He would usually give a derisory snort and exclaim “no chance”. He would expand on this by explaining that everything “went to pot” when Alf Ramsey decided to play without wingers.
I would then point out that we won the world cup in 1966 playing a 4-3-3 formation. This would elicit another snort followed by: “There’s only one way to play the game: 5 forwards, 3 half backs and 2 full backs. The only good thing about 1966 was Bobby and Nobby.”
My dad was from Manchester and supported Manchester United. Bobby was Bobby Charlton who my dad saw as a god – or at least a demi-god. Nobby was Nobby Styles, not quite a deity but certainly super-human.
He would then talk about the two best wingers to have played the game: Jimmy Mullen and Stanley Matthews. And I would point out that Mullen was in the side that lost in the world cup to the USA in 1950, to which reply he would just huff and say “Yes, but Matthews wasn’t and that proves my point.”
Here’s an interesting story I’ll share with you. I grew up in Wolverhampton in the 1960s. There were a number of sports shops in Wolverhampton at the time, but there were two in particular my dad insisted we went to when I first started playing football. One, owned by Jimmy Mullen, who played for Wolverhampton Wanderers (The Wolves) from 1937-1960, my dad would buy my football strips from. The second, from which he would buy my football boots, was owned by another ex-wolves player, Ron Flowers. Ron played for the Wolves from 1952 – 1967, and only died quite recently in 2021. He was also a member of the 1966 World cup squad.
So, here’s the poem. Let me know what you think.
The Formation Not Taken
Two paths diverged on the football pitch,
And sorry I could not play as both,
And be one team, long I wished,
And looked down one as far as I could,
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
Then took the other, as just as fair,
Without the wingers, the modern claim,
For it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.
And both that morning equally lay
In strategies no step had trodden black.
Oh, I doubted if I should ever come back.
I kept the 4-3-3 for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two formations diverged in a game, and I—
I took the one without wingers, alas,
And that has made all the difference.
For once there was Matthews and Mullen’s grace,
Their wings spread wide, swift and sure,
Yet we abandoned that hallowed space,
In 1950, to a USA loss obscure.
A fluke, they claimed, or fate’s cruel sting,
But we knew it was the loss of our winged king.
In ’66, the Cup we did embrace,
With Bobby Charlton, a god among men,
His skill and spirit, our saving grace,
Though the wingers’ glory we missed then.
Oh, for those days of winged delight,
When crosses flew with graceful flight.
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