Any F***ing Old Iron
¶ 1
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Unfashionable underdogs
Kicking off in Clockhouse Way:
Forlorn, the Crittall iron gates
Where Athletic used to play.
¶ 2
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One man’s utopian vision,
Guardians of Braintree Town,
The forbidding small square boxes
Are crying foul, heading down.
¶ 3
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‘The Iron’ will leave their stadium
And their soul for something new:
F*** off Cressing Road and history,
When the last Ref blows adieu.
¶ 4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 By soupman 13.09.14
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Hi Martyn
I tried to find a pic of the old Crittall gates at Braitntree to feature on the page with your poem, without sucess.Was interested to see them.
As a regular Forest Green fan (don’t scream!) I’m really familiar with the Iron iron and meeting up with your fans when they came up here on the hill for games.
I also still remember well, the NL 2015 play offs and how close you came back in the Cowley (pre-Lincoln/Huddersfield) days v Grimsby, who we of course lost to at Wembley.
Keep on. Crispin
Hi Crispin,
I’ve only just seen your comment about a photo of the gates. I will dig one out.
I’ve still not been to The New Lawn but I do hope to get there one day.
Martyn