I’m in the visitors’ end,
the away end, and it’s not easy,
watching the town where you live
play the town where you’re from.
Being verbally abused by the fans
from the town where you live and
not having traveled with the fans
from the town where you’re from.
In the away end,
the ‘dir-ty nor-thern bastards’ end;
being weighed up by a defensive wall
of high-viz jackets,
being filmed by the police,
just in case you do something criminal,
for the record. Say cheese,
show them your good side. After all,
to them, you are just another face in the away end:
another face who set off too early,
traveled too far, and
paid too much to get in.