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Poems tagged ‘FGR’

An FGR and Walter Tull Declamation

Stuart Butler

Wednesday, August 8th, 2018

Let the living answer the roll call of the dead:
Walter Tull of Spurs and Northampton Town KIA 1918;
And now the names from Forest Green:
Harry Watts was born in 1891 in Avening.
Harry joined the 6th Signal Corps of the Royal Engineers
prior to outbreak of war and became a Corporal.
He received the Military Medal in 1915.
Ernest Beale was born in 1897.
He worked as a brass worker before joining up.
He died in 1916 at Exeter Hospital of meningitis.
Names from another century come back to haunt us:
Walter, and Ernest, and Harry,
Names once shouted over a football pitch,
‘Give it to Walter’,
‘Over here, Harry,
‘Shoot, Ernie’;
The imperatives of a football team
Replaced by new orders in khaki, with
Night patrols, barbed wire and machine guns;
Muddied football boots forgotten
In the trench foot fields of Flanders;
The clamour from the ground and stands
No match for whizz bangs, mortars and howitzers;
The fogs of a November match,
Innocent memories in a gas attack:
‘Over the top tomorrow, Harry’,
‘Keep your head down, Ernie’,
‘Stay quiet. Don’t shoot, Ernie’,
‘Don’t worry, Harry. We’ll get you to hospital’,
‘Where’s Walter?’
You may have known each other,
Played with or against each other,
Trained together,
Boarded ships and trains together,
Relieved each other in the trenches,
And who knows?
Some of the Nailsworth, Shortwood and Forest Green players
Who survived the war,
May have searched for your body, Walter,
Before and after your last breath and memories,
Memories of Spurs and Northampton,
And childhood,
And a grandmother who had been a slave,
And you, an officer now,
Revered and loved by his men,
Searching for you out there in no man’s land,
As you breathe your last breath,
In whatever corner of a foreign field,
Which will always be an England,
Where the wind rushes.
And, who knows?
They may have talked of you,
That fine footballer, officer and gentleman,
When gathering in the Jovial Forester,
Toasting you with Stroud Brewery beer,
But then forgetting you as times grew hard,
As the wind rushes by.

As the Wind Rushes by.

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Motty – The Man The Coat The Mike

Crispin Thomas

Wednesday, September 6th, 2017

some of us started with Brian Moore
and never knew the truth about Stuart Hall
but the first commentating I ever heard
were Kenneth Wolstenholme’s old skool words
and Archie McPherson’s a passionate Scot
but none of them prepare like brave Johnny Mott

Peter Jones had a fabulous style
and David Coleman by a country mile
Bob Wilson’s quite thoughtful and mild
and Glenn Hoddle still drives psychics wild
Barry Davies had a powerful throat
but John’s got a beautiful sheepskin coat

now Loads find ‘Greeny’ feisty and rude
but Alan’s got passion and attitude
Jimmy Armfield’s got depth and soul
and Jacqui Oatley broke the mould
Jimmy Hill drove me totally potty
but for stats on acid you couldn’t beat Motty

here among the sheep at FGR
you might not know him or where we are
but he likes saying “truthfully” a lot
and Bob Hunt* is the finest we’ve got
win or lose man he’s always there
getting quite excited tearing out his hair

‘but Motty’s the one for the real classic lines
one of them’ll probably last for all time :
“For all of you watching in black and white
Spurs are all- yellow” he said one night
and here’s another that was really well meant:
“The World Cup’s a truly international event”

but I think of Motson wherever I go
standing in a blizzard knee deep in snow
notes in his hand cap on his head
looking like Dell Boy longing for his bed
serious expression standing all alone
telling us “It’s off!”….. as if we didn’t know

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Here For The Salad?

Crispin Thomas

Friday, August 4th, 2017

this is when you pinch yourself
dust that scarf from off the shelf
we ain’t scared of no-one else
we are FGR
brand new season brand new era
can you feel it drawing nearer
see our vision growing clearer
raise that concept bar

seats of green lie silent waiting
local hearts anticipating
eco-friendly no debating
living out the dream
days like this will linger longer
time to rise up and be stronger
and confirm that we belong here
up at Forest Green

Forest Green ? But where I hear?
in the middle of nowhere?
Did the salad bring you here?
here to FGR
Wembley mem’ries back in May
blow those cobwebs all away
now it’s here so come the day
come from near and far

perched up on our hillside home
clock our fan-base how it’s grown
see our pitch by solar mown
up at the New Lawn
come and taunt us if you dare
world is changing we don’t care
we’re just grateful to be here
swapping meat for Quorn

we’re prepared for mocking chants
we reply ‘Give Peas A Chance’
come up here and take a glance
this is who we are
call us upstarts when we score
tell us that our menu’s poor
our agenda’s something more
this is FGR

close to Stroud but could be Mars
vegan food electric cars
beer’s organic in our bars
in our bright green home
here where grazing sheep will greet us
we boast Q-Pie and fajitas
green agendas? you can’t beat us
we are on own own

catch the wind that turns the mill
by our home upon the hill?
call us anything you will
“hippies -blah blah blah”
‘fairy tale’ tags out of date
laced with jealousy and hate
we don’t punch above our weight
we are FGR

all those seasons we have known
changing football’s face alone
in a league that’s all our own
we are FGR
are you open can you take it?
are you ready to embrace it?
can you feel it can you taste it ?
up at FGR

this is when you pinch yourself
dust that scarf from off the shelf
we ain’t scared of no-one else
we are FGR
brand new season brand new era
can you feel it drawing nearer
see our vision growing clearer
raise that concept bar

seats of green lie silent waiting
local hearts anticipating
eco-friendly no debating
living out the dream
days like this will linger longer
time to rise up and be stronger
and confirm that we belong here
up at Forest Green

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Source: http://footballpoets.org/news/poem-tags/fgr/