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Capital Gold

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Heavyweight poise, sleek stealth across the hard ground
To flash past ‘keeper and trailing back four, before driving
Home another. Chest and volley – a crashing shot from
The Bermudan with that quiet assurance, shades of Viv.
Hit hard, claret shirt loose to the waist; a black face in the
East End, team mate of the World Cup trio – as well as
Redknapp, Brooking and Lampard; Hammers forever
Blowing bubbles – fronted by Clyde of the Caribbean.
They never won nuffin’ but the Chicken Run loved ’em,
Gawd bless – that double-hooped kit fondly remebered.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Speaking of hoops, across the manor down the Bush
It was Rodney, and Stanley in blue and white garb; slick
Moves on the cramped Loftus Road turf, as they pinged
It around so sweetly. Masson, Shanks, Francis – ball players
Of rare renown in the gritty seventies – down the road from
The Beeb, and the old White City track – a cult team to follow
In those egalitarian pre-Premier years, when money only
Got you so far. Flanaghan and Hales at the Valley – Best,
Moore and Marsh in Fulham white. Dunphy’s Millwall Lions,
Allison’s Palace Eagles; a golden era for London’s lesser lights.

6

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/capital-gold/