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LAST CHANCE SALOON

Andrew Detheridge

Thursday, July 13th, 2006

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 A no-score draw with Queen’s Park Rangers…
the future’s now filled with horrible dangers.
The penultimate weekend and still deep in the mire,
our season of torment going down to the wire.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Tuesday night and nerves are already frayed,
tactics are debated, best plans are laid.
We’re all world-beaters here in the pub,
but can the boys do it on Sunday? Ah, there’s the rub!

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Saturday night, it’s three o’clock,
just woke up in a state of shock-
how can we beat Charlton Athletic?
When all of this season we’ve been less than pathetic?

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Sunday lunchtime, the walk to the ground-
from inside The Hawthorns comes a deafening sound.
The sun is shining, not a spare seat in sight.
Hope starts to flicker- who knows? We just might!

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 First half, it’s all Albion- but we can’t find a goal
Nails start to shorten- this should be a stroll!
In seats all around us the transistors blare-
no goals at Ipswich. And Crewe? No goals there.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 Half time, still a stalemate! We’re no better off
than when we first started; you nervously cough.
My programme gets screwed up; my pie has gone cold,
I’m starting to feel so incredibly old!

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Four minutes in and we jump up and roar-
the news trickles through of a first I pswich score.
We’re staying up! Staying up! But don’t speak too soon-
there’s a lot that could happen to burst our balloon!

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 Then Sneekes goes off on a sweet mazy run,
holds off one defender, then a second for fun.
His shot leaves his boots… seems to float in the air..
bulges the net, we jump up- it’s there!

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 We dance with delight, clench our fists, scream and shout.
The pent up frustration floods joyfully out.
Filled with fresh hope, we start to recover,
when Super Bob steps up- and gets us another!

10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 Clement delivered an inch-perfect cross
and who should rise up from the midst of the dross?
Taylor, our hero, with four goals from five,
gets us the goal that will keep us alive.

11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 Crewe gets a couple, but it won’t make a difference,
‘Cos Carbon’s looking awesome in the centre of defence.
As the minutes keep on ticking, we ‘Boing Boing’ all the way;
relishing the moment, savouring the day.

12 Leave a comment on verse 12 0 Finally, it’s over, the whistle has been blown-
Charlton look dejected, their players stand alone,
feeling sick as parrots, while we’re over the moon,
but, please lads, next season? No more ‘last chance saloon’!

Notes

Written to commemorate the end of the 1999-2000 season, when West Bromwich Albion beat runaway-Champions Charlton 2-0 to ensure their First Division status.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/last-chance-saloon/