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Poems tagged ‘Forest Green Rovers’

Clawing Our Way Back

Crispin Thomas

Sunday, November 17th, 2024

it’s still a long road up ahead
we’ve only just begun
we’re right back where we started
among the fallen ones
the mountains that we’re facing
draw strength to just keep on
as our belief grows strong again
when hope had all but gone
you feel like you’ve lost your way
your passion starts to crack
but in a flash a light appears
we’re clawing our way back

two relegations in a row
can drain you if you let it
the constant losing on your watch
that won’t let you forget it
we climbed so high we touched it all
we faced the biggest teams
who brough twelve hundred to our home
the little village team
we watched them with euphoria
we thought we’d touched the sun
but we got burnt like Icarus
before it had begun
the little club upon the hill
who dipped and veered off-track
the journey starts again from scratch
we’re clawing our way back

when I first watched the Rovers
no-one knew our name
til Dale* arrived to save us
and nothing stayed the same
now ev’rybody knows us
from USA to Spain
they follow all our eco moves
and how we change the game
in learning to sustain ourselves
it’s courage we don’t lack
and daring to be different
we’re clawing our way back

this rural outpost in the West
where Rugby rules the hills
where Farmers Markets pull the crowds
and ev’rybody chills
our crowds are not the greatest
we have no burger van
among the non-league battlers
we’re back where we began
they taunt us for our oat milk
our Quorn Pies make them sneer
our pledge to save the planet
can fall upon deaf ears
but all who venture up here
care not for what we lack
it’s green and clear in black and white
we’re clawing our way back

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This Old Turnstile

Crispin Thomas

Sunday, October 6th, 2024

like them all before

I’m one more who makes their way

through this old turnstile ~

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Back For The Start

Crispin Thomas

Sunday, August 11th, 2024

far from the finished article but back for the start
still reeling from two relegation seasons
we board the coach with renewed hope

Ewan who I’ve never met before
shows me images from away games
and we talk music
the feeling here is… just don’t lose

sunny fields stream by and we’re there
‘The Rec’ is vey much that – deceptive from the outside
a wreck of a once beautiful old school ground inside
behind The old stand we are alongside
crumbling terracing and ageing toilets
meet long abandoned turnstiles

we’ve brought a healthy turn-out
the South Stand lads are here in force
and here’s Joanna and Martin from Ipswich
home fans are friendly too as we mingle

the game itself a mad and hectic
ragged blur of early mistakes
and oh dear we’re two down
embarrassment is partially avoided
with a late first half goal
and suddenly from nowhere
were 3-2 up as the second unfolds

a late unguarded cut-back
levels it for the Shots
could’ve have won it – could have lost it
I would have definitely taken a draw
and that’s how it ends

There are long roads ahead
and much to improve ahead
I don’t get to many aways
but this had made me keen for more…
onward

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Walking Through Woods To A Game

Crispin Thomas

Friday, August 2nd, 2024

whose woods these are I do not know
but to a hilltop ground they go
and as we climb in Summer heat
this well trod path beneath our feet
will lead us high above the town
and carry us both up and down
through air so humid thick and still
as we rise further up the hill
I stop for breath above the stream
as fans pass by from either team

this ancient wood is steep and green
the most unuusal way I’ve seen
no other route to watch a game
will somehow ever feel the same
my cheeks are red my climbing slow
as Andrew cries “not far to go”
when suddenly the trees are passed
and here’s a level road at last
and through a clearing we have found
this tiny hilltop football ground

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Remembering Bob ~ Bob Hunt /FGR Match Commentator RIP

Crispin Thomas

Thursday, May 2nd, 2024

some still ‘new’ to little Forest Green
might not have known him or the legend he’s been
he often came out with “truthfully” a lot
but Bob Hunt gave it out with all he’d got
sometimes in a match you were never quite sure
what just happened or did we just score ?
in love with the Rovers in love with the game
he often got confused over players names
but win lose or draw he was always there
getting quite excited tearing out his hair

all those away games on the radio
Bob and Billy* rambling and putting on a show
Wembley and promotion he was there on the mike
screaming out “Doidgee!”** as loud as you like
Bob was the voice of little Forest Green
always the passion and always the dream
he often came out with “truthfully” a lot
but Bob Hunt gave it out with all he’d got ~

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Just To Be A Fan

Crispin Thomas

Saturday, February 3rd, 2024

this path we call a journey
is taken without plans
we turn up in all weathers
with head and heart in hands
we gaze like sheep upon these hills
we rise and fall as one
the seasons that hold promise
are all too swiftly done
belief is often threatened
and though we understand
no-one knows what we go through
just to be a fan

the hope they say that kills you
will keep your dream alive
when you are gliding at the top
or battling to survive
the range of your emotions
can differ by the hour
and though your songs are clearly heard
you do not have the power
to be out there upon the field
to help them win the prize
to influence what’s going on
there before your eyes

you stand or sit in sun and rain
you cannot stay away
and come what may when Monday’s here
you long for Saturday
the threats of relegation
they hang above your head
how different barely years ago
when you were top instead
your rivals laugh and taunt you
and say I told you so
the winless weeks drag on and on
but still you have to go

you turn up on those Groundhog Days
with head and heart in hand
you sing and drum with purpose
as if you have a plan
you never stop believing
you rise and fall as one
you watch the the season glide away
until the games are done
you never can explain it
and no-one understands
the stuff you have to go through
just to be a fan …

but you always still believe…
…well -dont you?

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When You Win at Last

Crispin Thomas

Saturday, October 14th, 2023

anyone who’s been here
anyone at all
anyone who loves their club
loves them rise or fall
if you’re superstitious
if you have a dream
you endure the ups and downs
following your team
when you’re on a losing streak
games can turn to farce
Groundhog Day and Groundhog Night
til you win at last

ev’ryone goes through it
ev’ryone’s the same
ev’ryone gets down so low
ev’ry single game
pressure’s always present
pressure ev’rywhere
even if the manager
swears it isn’t there
pressure on the terraces
pressure on the pitch
pressure if your club is poor
pressure if you’re rich
no one can describe it
no one can explain
no one hides their feelings
when you win again

all the suff’ring falls away
songs ring out from fans
smiles return to faces
in a sea of hands
like a curse that lifted
from some nightmare past
no more endless hoodoo
when you win at last…

….at home!

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I Was There : FGR 1-0 Sheffield Wednesday

Crispin Thomas

Monday, March 27th, 2023

once in a blue moon

comes a day when you can say

oh yes I was there

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When It’s Time To Go

Crispin Thomas

Wednesday, January 25th, 2023

If you’ve ever been there
If you’ve had the call
If you’ve had that feeling
Writing’s on the wall
Like some guilty party
In your heart you know
There is no alternative
When it’s time to go

When you see it coming
When you feel it’s near
Something tells you carry on
Overcome the fear
Ev’ry club goes through it
Ev’ry fan I know
In the end the coach must pay
When it’s time to go

Seeming backings from above
Only bring delay
Rumours blowing in the wind
Closer draws the day
Toxic chants that manifest
From the stand in song
Leave us all in little doubt
It won’t be too long
Did you feel it coming?
We will never know
In the end it’s best for all
When it’s time to go

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Stopping By The Ground On A Snowy Morning

Crispin Thomas

Friday, December 16th, 2022

whose ground this is I surely know
unrecognizable in snow
and I my glee can barely hide
to find these gates all open wide
my little dog must think it strange
to stop with neither fan nor game
he gives his furry head a shake
as if to say ..”give me a break”
as icicles upon the stand
hang pointing like some outstretched hand
more purer than the blankest page
this dazzling winter football stage
~
more magic now than old cup ties
when we the giants would surprise
or days when sun beats down on grass
as golden as some stunning pass
but where so many stand and yell
there’s only me to feel and tell
save for a flag with pigeons on
who with a flurried flake are gone
no markings here to see at all
no ground-staff player coach or ball
but I’m enraptured by the sight
of snow-bound terraces of white
~
I think on all who ever stood
or sat through seasons bad and good
a hundred years upon this hill
the driving winds the biting chill
from Bovril to our own Q-Pie
the fans who came in suit and tie
from bobble hats to hoods of black
who wish the olden days were back
the players we have loved and seen
from black and white to dayglo green
The South Stand up to VIP
for vegan fare in luxury
~

I ponder on it on my own
while standing silent and alone
as all around in empty streets
brave motorists will make retreats
and slide through Nailsworth’s transformed land
like skaters in some wonderland
upon this hill which winds us home
I think of who’s up next at home
and hope this snow will all be gone
and that our game will still be on
but I have roads to face as well
with words to write and rhyme and tell
and soon so soon I must return
to where my cottage fire will burn
but still I stand like referees
upon awarding penalties
to share in wonder as I go
the beauty of a ground in snow

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Source: http://footballpoets.org/news/poem-tags/forest-green-rovers/