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King Of The Wolves

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Knocker Knowles, darling of the North Bank
In those heady sixties days. A style, a swagger
In slick gold kit. Attitude aplenty; showman, rebel.
Kicked the ball out of the ground, sat on it to
Taunt opponents. Our own pop idol to rival
Georgie in Manchester. Could play a bit, too.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Had the looks, had the charisma to succeed
At the top; scored goals and played his part
In a team of talents – like Doog and Waggy.
His brother a full-back at Spurs, but Peter
The Great stood out in the famous shirt – a
Man sure of himself, or so it seemed to the fans.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 But it wasn’t all that simple; The Yorkshire lad
Found a Calling. A release from the pressures
Became a substitute for them. Doubt crept in,
Guilt and reflection – escape to another world.
Despite reason, despite persuasion he called it
Quits in September, ’69. And never came back.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 But we remember his skills, his Beatle haircut,
His nonchalance. Could have been a superstar,
Had his beliefs allowed the freedom to continue.
Still, we’re thankful for the memories – ever fainter
With passing years. God’s Footballer, they called him;
Lost to the game, a Wanderers’ hero of his time.

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Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/king-of-the-wolves/