King’s Drive ( 28th October 1978 )

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Bob Paisley said “It was no game for the connoisseur,
I dont think there were 20 passes in the match ”
But he couldn’t hide the sadness in his north eastern burr,
As the chants rang out, about Big Bobby Latch .

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Seven long, painful years, three hundred and sixty two weeks,
Since Everton tasted victory, over Liverpool,
Who’d conquered Europe, FA Cups and Leagues,
It was a terrible time to be at school .

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 But Andy King took a knock down,
From Martin Dobo’s cultured head,
Souness lunged, the curly permed clown,
Clemence clawed at thin air instead .

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Seven agonising, heart wrenching years
had wreaked a terrible toll,
Despicable Clive Thomas driven me to tears,
But this, THIS, would pay for it all .

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Watching the Reds pass, on an open topped bus
carrying various trophies they’d won,
I’d asked, “Dad, how come they always beat us?”
He said, “Because we’re Everton, Son.”

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 “This is what we are, this is what we do,
we turn up, go to the game,
if it’s good enough for me, it’s good enough for you,
like my Dad and his Dad, the same.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 But now there was no more need to pray,
Or Holy Statues to touch,
As I watched it again on Match of the Day ,
Straight after Starsky and Hutch.



Still remember this game like it was yesterday , the sights , sounds
and smells, greatest day of my life .

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/kings-drive-28th-october-1978/