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Long haired stylist in the decade of decadence,
A dashing cult hero, a player with swagger.
Started in the stripes of home town Huddersfield,
Reached the top flight with the Terriers, but
Left for the Leicester Foxes – after Shankly
Turned him down. Too much of a soloist for the
Red machine. Flourished in smart company with
Weller, Sammels, Birchenall, Earle, Glover – a slick,
Jazzy outfit in the sexy, supersonic Seventies.
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Worthy flaunted his skills, and himself, as he
Moved on from club to club. Wherever those
Magical boots took him, Frank produced his party
Pieces – a consummate entertainer, born showman
Like his musical idol. Sadly, his skills were largely
Lost on the England hierarchy – too much talent to
Harness; a fluidity borne of inherent self-confidence.
Blues, Bolton, Leeds and Saints – all bewitched by
The King; supreme genius, played on, and on…
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Headband, socks rolled down – a swivel, a shrug,
A lethal, unerring shot. Strolled around like he owned
The ball; ladies’ man for sure – even out-Bested Best.
Liked the Rock ‘n Roll persona; the glam, the glitter.
Found his niche everywhere he played – and gave full
Value in seven hundred and fifty seven appearances
At eleven clubs over twenty two years. Now a raconteur
On the after dinner circuit, ever flamboyance and flair;
Nobody did it better than the man who would be Elvis.