Many a slip

There’s many a slip
‘Twixt the cup and the lip,
Though it isn’t the Cup we’re concerned with.
Instead, it’s the League,
And bad luck and fatigue
Are the matches we’re scared to get burned with.

Last year we were flying
And raucously crying
That promotion was ours for the taking.
At the end, though, the sound
That rang out cross the ground
Was the sound of a thousand hearts breaking.

Oh yes, there’ll exist
Doubtless many a twist
‘Ere the fate of the title’s decided.
Last year I was sure,
But ‘twas too premature,
So don’t make the same mistake I did.

Yes there’s many a slip
‘Twixt the League and the lip,
There’s four sides still very much in it.
Of course, we might go
For an nine in a row,
But I don’t believe that for a minute.