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A VANISHED BREED. (The Scottish winger)

John J O’Connor

Thursday, October 16th, 2003

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 They could not produce goalkeepers,
and Andy Stewart couldn’t sing,
but what Scotland could produce,
was wizards on the wing.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 The home of great inventors,
of engineers and thrift,
the men they produced on the wing,
became English footballs gift.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 They were described as feisty, canny,
as fiery, nippy, wee,
the likes of them unfortunately,
again we’ll never see.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Those magic little gentlemen,
filled Scottish hearts with pride,
but the Scottish winger has disappeared,
like the ship-yards on the Clyde.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 ‘Twas in places like the Gorbals,
and the close-nit mining towns,
that reared these little geniuses,
who made full backs look like clowns.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 Dribbling from the tenements,
ball glued to the feet,
treating every lamp-post,
as if it was a man to beat.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Learning to dip the shoulder,
and dummy the defender,
weaving with the tennis ball,
like a drunk out on a bender.

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 Poverty had made many of them,
look like they suffered malnutrition,
but feed them the ball out on the wing,
and you witnessed a magician.

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 Then when they got to fifteen years,
and of their potential their weren’t a doubt,
they were whisked away south of the border,
by an English football scout.

10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 Despite the language barrier,
and the fact most were homesick,
after building up on English steak,
they became an automatic pick.

11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 As they’d stroll along the touchline,
shins exposed by lowered socks,
their aim was to reach the bye line,
and then produce a cross.

12 Leave a comment on verse 12 0 Nearly every English team,
had atleast one in their side,
and the big and burley forwards,
would convert crosses they supplied.

13 Leave a comment on verse 13 0 Lorimer and Eddy Gray,
roamed the flanks at Leeds,
they still could get their place today,
in that team of Peter Reid’s .

14 Leave a comment on verse 14 0 Jimmy Johnstone starred for Celtic,
his namesake Willie for the Gers,
Charlie Cooke at Chelsea,
and Jim Robertson with the Spurs.

15 Leave a comment on verse 15 0 Forest also had a Robertson,
he was John, and overweight,
but when full backs tried to catch him,
they were always just too late.

16 Leave a comment on verse 16 0 Willie ——– Willie Morgan,
Willie Morgan on the wing,
was heard aloud in the Stretford End,
where the masses they would sing.

17 Leave a comment on verse 17 0 They sang the same at Highfield Road,
where Tommy Hutchison ruled the flanks,
and Arthur Graham nut megged full backs,
some who were the size of tanks.

18 Leave a comment on verse 18 0 There was Billy Hughes at Sunderland,
and his brother ‘ Yogi Bear’,
and wee Willie Henderson,
a player of pace and flair.

19 Leave a comment on verse 19 0 Yes, most were tempermental,
they could easily throw a looper,
but will Scotland ever produce again,
the likes of Davie Cooper?

20 Leave a comment on verse 20 0 Now the Glasgow lamp-post is all alone,
except for the odd canine,
street football is finito,
and the kids are all on – line.

21 Leave a comment on verse 21 0 Eastenders starts at eight o’clock,
so there’s no one on the street,
except the ghosts of the old wing men,
with magic in their feet.

© John J O’Connor Oct 16 03

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/a-vanished-breed-the-scottish-winger/