Compatriot Games

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Come all you true Hibees, and sway while you sing.
The love of Hibernian’s a powerful thing.
We shout out our chants, praise our heroes by name:
my countrymen playing compatriot games.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 My name’s Ian Hebrin, you might know my face.
My home’s Easter Road, down in Albion Place.
I’ve watched all my life, and my father the same;
now we both take part in compatriot games.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Once watching the Hibs was like watching Brazil,
the team overflowed with immaculate skill-
our supporters’ souls are tattooed with their names-
the most famous five of compatriot games.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 My father tells stories of great victories
at Rosenborg, Porto and proud Napoli:
Barcelona, Real and Juve were tamed-
they could not compete in compatriot games.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 He told me how Turnbull’s Tornadoes broke through
the Celtic defence back in seventy two.
The Parkhead back line was all battered and lame-
they simply weren’t up to compatriot games.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 Then in seventy nine a legend arrived:
The Boy from Belfast’s reputation survived:
exotic, quixotic, alcoholic, untamed-
the will-o-the-wisp of compatriot games.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Mercurial, he was never a stayer:
hitting more bars than the average player.
Though now fading with time, his legend remains-
the greatest to grace our compatriot games.

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 Bob Shankly, Jock Stein, and now Stubbs is our man,
who pledges his best to our lowliest fan,
who vows to uphold the club’s glorious name
and leads from the front in compatriot games.

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 It’s all downhill, or there’s a mountain to climb,
but the teams turn around after half time:
the slope of the pitch is one half of our fame;
the other half is our compatriot games.

10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 We don’t buy much Brasso, we’re borassic lint:
our trophy room’s empty, there’s hardly a glint
of silverware there, no citations in frames,
few cups have been won in compatriot games.

11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 The badge my team wears bears no foreign crown.
We sing ‘Erin Go Bragh’ in this part of town,
though these days our songs have less radical aims:
the Ref. called offside to the patriot games.



For my friend, Douglas Riach, a lifetime Hibs fan, who asked me for a poem based on the folk song ‘Patriot Games’. Thanks to Doug, I’ve started writing again, and I’ll post a few more poems about Hibs following this.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/compatriot-games/