• one Christmas in the trenches they stood in mud and sand their loved ones and their football a distant far off land – the snow lay thick as thick could be a bitter chill did spread behind the sand bags and the wire they stood among the dead their sweethearts faces locked inside their tins […]
  • still swapping shirts with Willie the Shake taught us words can make the heart ache showed us life is just a stage where we run and strive and guage this Peoples’ Game that carries on until the day that we are gone that changes unbelievably into a money monster tree as all our words and […]
  • eighteen years of verse sixteen thousand five hundred poems on football
  • I for one will miss paper tickets for the match when they scan my eyes
  • I recall that Saturday like yesterday a steaming summer our first home game in ‘58 excitement and childlike expectation in the air August in London and sweltering “stand clear of the doors!” “wear your colour!” “official programme sixpence a go!” “roasted peanuts ‘tanner’ a bag!” welcome to the season welcome to Wolves stopping to gaze […]