Football Poets

The Day The Fans Came Back

it could be just a one-off
these days it’s hard to know
behind your mask you dare not ask
you’re grateful just to go
a little hope amid the dark
a glimpse of what we lack
while stood upon familiar steps
the day the fans came back

they start to take our temperatures
with care one at a time
a gap between us all in masks
as we await in line
we’re singing up here on the hill
we’re moving down a track
inside we know we’ve far to go
‘til al the fans are back

the game itself a joyous blur
for moments you forget
the stuff that’s going on out there
that will continue yet
you sip the flask that you have brought
you savour each attack
it’s far from normal on the hill
we’re grateful to be back

our world’s divided into tiers
the game provides distraction
it must be hard to play so much
without the fans reaction
you feel and see the team enjoy
the vibe the crowd the craic
however long it’s gonna be
it’s brilliant to be back

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If We Stay in Forest Green

they say that it’s impractical they say we’ve gotta go
they say we really have to move but some of us say no
and yes it needs improvements the parking and the ground
but nothing is impossible that’s what I’ve always found
it’s not a lot to ask for it’s how it’s always been
so can’t we just explore it if we stay in Forest Green?

I’ve got no big agenda versus stadiums in wood
in truth it could be special but up by Nortonwood*
and what a place to play in to visit or to chill
blending with the valley the fields and the hill
a place where all away fans had somewhere warm and clean**
I know that they can do it if we stay in Forest Green

a South and North Stand toilet with a ceiling and with heat ***
so we don’t have to spend our nights all thawing out our feet
and on the top of my Q Pie**** with steaming hot gravy
some peas and mash potato like they had in the Embrey
I’m saying we belong here it’s where we’ve always been
our history and future if we stay in Forest Green

I’m really into eco and the times are getting tough
I stand up for the planet and all of that good stuff
and you can call me grandad a dinosaur too even
tell me I’m a wrinkly or another oat-drunk vegan
say that it’s not feasible but here was built the dream
of something really special if we stay in Forest Green

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130 Yesterdays (Forest Green Rovers 1889-2019)

it’s so hard to imagine now
way way back in time
the birth of little Forest Green
in eighteen eighty nine
the little hilltop village team
whose changing hut was found
behind the Jovial Forester
a good walk from the ground

a pitch all lined with turnips then
when crowds would flock to see
a local team of local men
so long before TV
as through the lower leagues they rose
a hundred years rolled by
Hellenic League and Southern League
the club refused to die

it’s sometimes strange to fathom
what drew us here to see
the Rovers for the first time
like some epiphany
but under corrugated iron
we stood among the fans
the black and white the breeze blocks
the tiny little stand
the terraces around the pitch
the ancient iron gate
the days under the radar
when hopes were not that great

I tore myself from big-screen pubs
I dropped by when I could
but die-hard fans stuck by them
through all the bad and good
the FA Vase at Wembley win
it feels like yesterday
the moment when we made it as
the Conf’rence came our way

and then the years of struggles
the fans and their belief
the Big Boys who we’d watch depart
the hardest league to leave
The Oxfords and the Newports
the Grimsbys with their songs
those play-off magic nights so close
to where this team belongs

while others gazed in wonder
at standards being made
the dream at last was realized
the day we made the grade
And now the revolution
the eco sample set
the journey here to where we are
that old fans won’t forget

but through it all a new belief
among us all was born
as we command respect and awe
up here at the New Lawn
and sometimes as I stand here
and chat with loyal fans
the thoughts go back to yesterday
to how it all began
the little hilltop village team
whose changing hut was found
behind the Jovial Forester
a good walk from the ground

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South Stand Man

It’s five to three on a Saturday
The usual crowd wander in
There’s a guy in a full kit beside me
But he reckons our chances are thin.

He says: “mate are we up for a good one?
‘Cause you never what you will get“
But unlike away fans stood under the sky
None of us here will get wet.

But it’s cold if it’s August or Christmas
The roof on the toilet’s not there
And the guys in the middle make most of the noise…
Whenever they choose to appear!

So sing us a song we’re the South Stand
Sing us a song today
Forget all your moans and be loud as you are
When you watch Rovers away.

We gave up our badge and our black and white stripes
Our new zebra look is quite strange
The walk up the hill is a nightmare
But it’s great running back down again,

Now Jamie he’s made some great FGR flags
He follows us home and away
And Cam’s just a kid but he turns out a vid
Wherever whenever we play.

So sing us a song in the South Stand
Don’t just rely on the young
Forget all your gripes about vegans and vibes
And I’ll bang along on my drum.

Now football’s a novelty round here
The concrete steps here ain’t that steep
The terraces don’t go as high as the Kop
But at least we can still see the sheep.

And the microphone man tries as hard as he can
To generate match atmospheres
And lately the East Stand have found a new voice
As the library tag disappears,

So sing us a song we’re the South Stand
Sing us about Forest Green
And we’ve played on this hill for a long time
But we’re still just a small village team.

Now our owners a rich New Age Hippy
Some of our fans have their views
We’re electric and solar and vegan
But it keeps up there in the news.

And away fans they chant for a meat van
The parking’s a nightmare – but hey
It’s a beautiful place in the sun or the rain
And we’d love it to just stay that way.

We’re a throw back to games in the fifties
We’ve got terraces here on three sides
But we’ll love it and stand for as long as we can
Just embracing enjoying the ride.

So sing us a song we’re the South Stand
Some of still share your dream
But when we all cheer it’s amazing in here…….
Not bad for a small village team.

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David Dangerfield’s Dad’s Boots

You called on Christmas Eve afternoon,
Carrying an unwrapped parcel,
A gift brought from memory lane:
David Dangerfield’s dad’s football boots,
Slightly battered but proud and dubbinned,
Though still smeared with sixty-year old mud.

Brown, big toe caps, heavy size 8s,
Placed on the Christmas hearth to warm,
Like two twin ships in dry dock,
Recollecting their voyages
Once ploughed through the fields
Of Gloucestershire and Wiltshire.

There will be no scrapyard for you,
You will tell your old time tales
In studded mute testimony,
Memories dribbling their Forest Green path
Through the logs, sparks and flames –
Climbing up the chimney
To greet the stars,
And be over the moon.

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