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Doobs, not boobs

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Michael Duberry
He told the truth
In amongst sinners
Lads, honed to be winners
On top of their game
The rest of us, too tame
Or too lame
To be the best
Not enough zest
To make it to the top
But we’d surely know when to stop
To hold back
Not to continue to hack
At an unprotected head
To leave half-dead
An Asian lad
The racism, so bad
The spite, so mad
The outcome, so sad
Justice, just a tad
Subverted
Another victim, the one who blurted
Who reconsidered, recanted, then with honesty and candour
Recounted events, from that odious night, filled with rancour
Allies then, now adversaries
The protagonists, rebuked with blunted bursaries
Now they share the same pitch
But there hasn’t been a handshake which
Could mend the fences
Visage visibly tenses
As the wooden gate
A portal of hate
Blanks with a stare
The one who dared to care
To do right
In amidst the shite
Of perjury and deception
And now the reception
Of each and every crowd
Voices out loud
The feelings of the fans
(From the rank and file, to the fancy-dans)
Showers down from the stands
But all the emotions, still fail to cleanse, in this real-life soap
It’s only the outpouring, of support, that brings hope
The open return, to fair-minded morals
Abundantly clear, despite the players quarrels
The lost camaraderie, a shame
In this most beautiful pageant of a game
Especially when you consider
A team mate, another kidder
A fellow bastion of the banter
Shared at a canter
During training
Where bodies take a caning
Friendships are forged
Ego’s engorged
And then that alliance, abused
As they’re drawn in, to a situation confused
Put upon to lie
While the Nation wonders … why?
And now we see a career, going down the tubes
This genial centre back, we affectionately called the ‘Doobs’
When he started out, down at the Bridge
Now he’s out in the cold, more freezer than fridge
We have to hope, that with his contract extended
Divisions could be mended
And, in the same way as free kicks are defended
Arms should link
Black and white, should entwine and think
With shared grey matter
Of better ways, other than to batter
For settling differences, of opinion
Whether it be with jerk, or minion
Toff or totty
Smart-alec or grotty
Oik or berk
Whether the demeanour is beserk
Or calm, lucid, reason
Let every match, in every season
Be a flagbearer for a new tomorrow
Let there be an end to the sorrow
Of beatings, injustice, indiscipline
Let’s all unite together, to win
And whether it be on or off the pitch
Let’s ditch
Racial abuse.

boob : n (coll) a stupid or foolish mistake

kicking someone to near-death,
is certainly more than a boob
racial abuse,
is certainly more than a boob
but apart from the facetious title (just for the sake of a rhyme)
the underlying message should be fairly obvious

Any suggestions for a better title?
Or any comments on the subject matter?

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/doobs-not-boobs/