Football Poets

Fulham fan

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 FULHAM FAN
For as long as I can remember
I never felt like I fit in – or belonged
I always tried to march in step – but I often got it wrong.
You see, I was born up north – and of course
I had a northern mouth
The trouble really started – when family moved down south.
‘Cos that broad Yorkshire twang – proved a real bitch
for a boy growing up – in SW6
And all I wanted was to belong – and to fit
So I became a Fulham fan
a pre-teenage football hooligan
and did that tribal football bit
Not because I hated Chelsea (and I did hate Chelsea)
But in my search for acceptance – for street credibility
But it didn’t suit me
For there always was – a lot of strangeness in my soul
So I gave up football
when I discovered sex and drugs and rock’n’roll
You see, I got bored with fighting and getting drunk
Sex and drugs were much more ‘me’.
So I became a punk
And I really thought I’d found – a world that I could fit in
I loved that world of bastard rock’n’roll
of pink hair, zips and spitting
I thought I’d really found – my natural state
But I got bored with doing speed
and tired of staying up late
My pink hair stood out, and up, too much
I wanted to be straight
And as punk had become – just another uniform
I decided it was time – for me to toe the line
and conform to the norm
To aim for 2.4 kids – and a 2.8 Cortina
Get a house and a job and adopt
a much more sensible demeanour
But I stuck out like a sore thumb – or bushman’s bum
When I lived at number 31 – Larks Hill Rise
I couldn’t take the scrutiny – of suburban net-veiled eyes
I never stood a chance
I could no more skip to that tune – than fly to the moon
when my heart beat to the rhythm
of a stranger, more exotic dance
And it’s only since I let myself listen
that I learnt the lesson of the point I’d been missing
Of how I’d been putting too much stress on – the 2nd and 3rd person
When I’m so much more at ease – with my own 1st person version
So sod what anyone else thinks – Public opinion stinks
Why shouldn’t I enjoy my strangeness – and indulge my singularity
Why water myself down – for superficial peer group popularity
And it’s been self-empowering – I’ve begun a new flowering
Because now I don’t give a toss
whether people think I’m dross – or respectable
At last – to myself – I’m acceptable
And that’s enough – I no longer give a stuff
what I wear – or about my hair
I’m so much more well-rounded
now I see that it’s the hole that’s square
And though I know – it’s made me more
opinionated, arrogant, pompous and cruel
and an insufferably glib – old git
I don’t give a shit
Because life is much simpler
now I wear a cap that fits.

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