In Defence Of A Defender.
¶ 1
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Will scant hope disappear on the run in
Who knows till the portly lass wails?
Would we leave Newton Heath with a humbling
Our swagger knocked right off the rails?
¶ 2
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Way it’s turned out, not what galls us
Found wanting, and quickly two down
At least five from eleven still asleep on team’s bus
As United’s front line went to town.
¶ 3
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In anger, our manager glared toward the back
Whilst aiming the digit of blame
At a young centre half left exposed by our lack
Of concentration, in this critical game.
¶ 4
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“S’not my fault,” the centre back shouted out loud
Toward the bench as a sub was warmed up
Pre-Raphaelite hair on his napper whirled round
As team-mates bang out of line screamed “Shut up”.
¶ 5
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Settling down he got on with the business
Of trying to get forward and score
Whilst ignoring the managers somewhat remiss
Laying of the blame at his door.
¶ 6
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Should our manager have pointed the finger
When almost half of the team were akip?
Was he right at half time to pull the young Brazilian
Who’d helped in reducing a fifteen-point deficit?
¶ 7
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Will this boy with the curls hold resentment?
Toward his under fire gaffer next week?
I’m not sure, but this volley aimed at the man on the bench
Speaks of a confidence from ignorance in heaps!
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