Going Down.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 When the gap began to broaden
When that goal seemed far away
I recall a Sunday maudlin
After. The final game was played.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 A mere point was what we wanted
Said point was never on
As I came to the conclusion as a fan
You don’t always get what you want.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Embracing empty concrete steps
Head in hands dismay
The main had left before the end
Of the seasons final game.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Ripped programmes, torn ticket stubs
Discarded flags and scarves
Left by them sat in funereal pubs
Sad buses, grieving cars.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Staring out at the stud scarred pitch
Reliving every kick
When you realize it was not to be
Your reasoning makes you sick.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 Floodlights dim, the outlooks grim
As ‘The Coppers’ leave the touchline
Are they here to make sure you’re locked in
As a kind of final punishment?

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Whilst grounds men smooth their handicraft
With pitchforks, rakes and shovels
You question your love for this football lark
Is it really worth the trouble?

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 You can’t go home, the World’ll know
Of the sad demise to your season
You can bet your life they’ll be stood in the road
Singing “Soon be off to Brighton”.*

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 The team are pig sick in the dressing room
You’re sat near to tears midst the litter
Next term you’ll back to shoot at the moon
Like the Murphy’s… you’re not bitter.

10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 Losing semi finals,
Shoot out’s and extra time
There’s nowt to compare to the utter despair
When it hits, you’re going…down.



Losing a game, any game or winning for that matter has never knocked me side-ways like being relegated. It takes weeks to sink as you walk around thinking to yourself, after seeing the new fixtures, it’ll be great away at so and so next year. Only to finally grasp the reality that you and your team ain’t going there.

A different mindset is needed to cope with relegation as a fan, so I send my best to any fans involved in the end of season dogfight. As it can get really emotional.

We were relegated one year, when I couldn’t get time off work to travel up to Ayresome Park to watch us play Boro, so mates and myself paid to watch the beamback with Kenneth Wostenholme commentating in a run down West End cinema. Well weird being told to go afterwards as the place was shutting for the night. No time for it to sink in, nothing, a very cold and strange feeling, if and when it does happen you’ve got to be at the ground if possible, amongst the crestfallen to help you take it in, hard as it may seem.

*With mucho respect to Brighton fans, it’s just the first name that came to me as I’m from the South of the country.



Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/going-down/