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Bill Reece, where are you now?

Alan McKean

Sunday, June 12th, 2005

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 I remember cold Sunday mornings
And a damp and lonely football pitch
In late 1960’s Middleton,
Tucked behind the old Town Hall,
And a group of equally damp teenagers
Standing on a wet touchline,
Waiting.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 No top class teams here,
No sponsor’s shirts to parade,
No egos on show.
They’re waiting for the local CND team,
Who’re playing – someone else.
The play is simple,
Kick and rush.
No finesse, and fouls a-plenty,
With goals by the dozen.
Sunday morning football.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 What brings a bunch of Grammar school kids
To a wet Sunday morning game?
Sir’s playing.
In the week
He tries hard to teach us English and History
At weekends,
A game and a pint with his mates.
A normal guy.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 A Man City fan as I recall.
Strange how life turns in a circle,
As where you used to live
Is now underneath the City stadium.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 WT Reece BA
Where are you now?
These words
A testament to yours of forty years ago.
Cheers Bill

© Ala McKean June 2005

Notes

Bill tried hard to get love of the english language under our skin.
He eventually succeeded.
Thanks Bill.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/bill-reece-where-are-you-now/