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Football Stickers

Peter Goulding

Monday, August 18th, 2003

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Football stickers were my world when I was just a kid,
Everyone collected them, so naturally I did.
Saturday was pocket money, down the shop I’d fly,
Brassy thruppence clenched in hand, and feeling kind of high.
Rip the pristine packet open, flicking through them all,
Ian Storey-Moore is new, and so is Alan Ball.
Monday morning huddle round with cards in grubby hands,
Swaps and cops divided up with thin elastic bands.
Once for birthday, my gran gave a shiny half a crown,
I didn’t tell my mum or dad, but sprinted into town.
“Thirty packs of stickers, please!” I slapped the silver down.
“Are you sure?” he asked me, with the semblance of a frown.
“Yes I am!” I answered him, excitement in my voice.
He counted out the packets, for he’d very little choice.
“Thanks!” I muttered breathlessly. He grunted in response.
I took them out, sat on a wall, and opened them at once.
Of course, my dad found out and he exacted retribution,
My bum was smacked and I discovered total destitution.
But still I can remember all those photos, clean and sticky,
Bobby Tambling, Alan Suddick, West Brom’s Dick Kryzwycki.
Those albums long have disappeared, though memory still flickers
Of all of the excitement that I got from football stickers

© Peter Goulding 18th August 2003

Notes

Dare say those albums would be worth a fortune now!

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/football-stickers/