My Grandpa Jack- West Ham supporter
¶ 1
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What on earth would
My grandpa have thought
Of this current generation
The modern zeitgeist
West Ham through and
Through, long suffering
Polish and polished
In the arts of following
The game from the
Objective safety of
The grand arm chair
With antimacassar
To cushion the blow
When the Hammers
Were beaten and overcome
As a barber with
Scissors he would crimp,
Cut and chop the locks
Of Moore, Hurst and Peters
Bovington, Birkett, Dear
Redknapp of course
With the studied
Attention to detail
Courtesy and politeness
With delicate fingers
Clippers oozing civility
And propriety,
In an age when short,
Back and sides
Were in vogue
And the Mods
Met the rockers
If asked
Grandpa Jack
Would oblige
Anarchic skinheads
With a number four
Perhaps more
Then the dashing
Mohicans would
Laugh at the absurdity
Of their sculpted scalp
Follicles like spiky
Cactuses relaxing in
Summer heat
But Grandpa Jack
Would smile warmly
At their arty
Expressions of
The outrageous but
Hey it was the Sixties
And Grandpa Jack
Would never object
To startling revelations
Of the new and different
He loved West Ham
Because they represented
The underdog, always
Locked in struggles against
The ever present anxiety
Of the relegation trap door
And yet he might have
Re-assured us that
West Ham had won the
World Cup
Indeed they had
When the end of July
Was his seminal moment
The barber knew best
Of infinite wisdom
That day when
Grandpa Jack quite
Properly put down
Brush, scissors and
Clippers
To acknowledge West Ham
Thanks Grandpa Jack.
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