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Bitter? Nah. Not Really.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 The Kid we let slip though our hands*
Laid on a pair and we were damned
To end the game with ten fit men
When our keeper caught a red again.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 At three down the fickle upped and left
Partly blaming our demise on ref
Who lets be fairs had better days
Sure but that’s what every loser says.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 In the rows of cold and empty seats
Those who stayed rose to their feet
Sang and cheered the youngsters on
As we shared their hurt in what went wrong.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Three down, three down it’s been so long
I thought during a poignant song
As the passionate in the stands remained
Unlike the fickle, waiting on their trains.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 When the fourth official called an extra four
I shouted out aloud “Oh No I Can’t Take Any More”
Which caused nearby seat-mates to laugh
While they looked at me as if I was daft.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 “Will you be here when we play The Spurs”?
The fellow sat beside me purred
“Of course I will, and again next term”
In the hope (as all fans do) our luck will turn.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 We trooped out having caught three on the chin
When all you can do is crack a joke and grin
Seems the really put out ones had already left
As the the third nestled gently in our net.

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 In the crowded streets the loyalists walked
Toward The Tube and talked the talk
Of those who’ve seen far darker days
and know now they’re all part of…The Game.

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 Over dinner with my kids, I thought
It’s been a strange old year, (plus we’ve lost three nought)
Though this losing games can be pretty tough
I’ve decided when that whistle goes…it’s time for other stuff.

*Kevin De Bruyne often referred to as “The Kid” by Jose Mourinho. Yeah well I won’t dwell on that topic too long…dear reader.

*In the interval we’d stood and clapped
In respect to our departed and well liked chap
I can still remember when we used to sing:
“Ian Britton, Ian Britton, Ian Britton on The Wing”.

Come On You Foxes.

Stay well, be lucky and keep smiling.

Peace.

Kev.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/bitter-nah-not-really/