Some call her Lou Lou, some Isabella
But to most fans at Palace, she was Missus Minchella.
“Peanuts forra sixpence
A tanner a bagga”
Her accent went through you
Like a sharpened up dagger.
She was boisterous and moody
and prone to a moan
and before Kane was to Tottenham
She was one of our own.
Back in the Sixties and Seventies
her primitive bark
would compete with the chants
at pre-match Selhurst Park
“One two, three, four
Can you hear the Palace roar?
Peanuts for Sixpence”
Would mock the visiting fans
Unlike the players who came, played and went
Missus Minchella was always there
Rain, snow. wind — sun or hail
You’d always hear her accented wail
“Peanuts forra a sixpence,
a tanner a bagga.”
So who was the mysterious Missus Minchella?
The monkey-nut lady with the feisty demeanor
The bandanna covered head
And the olive, leathery skinned face.
A face that had memories, it couldn’t erase
A face that witnessed poverty, war and relegations
A lined face that saw much sorrow
But very few elations
Many claimed to know her
but no- one really did.
Urban legends abounded
Some said she was an Italian countess who fled the Nazis
It was whispered that she had Mafia connections.
And in her younger days was a raven haired beauty
Whose husband died
on war time duty.
That the large gold earring’s that hung down to her shoulders
would fetch thousands if sold
Some assumed she was a gypsy, who hoarded her gold
in a secret compartment, that her basket would hold.
That she lived in a mansion of luxury
Far away from the din, of match day Selhurst Park
from her boisterous persona and thunderous bark.
“Peanuts forra a sixpence – a tanner a bagga. “
Some bought her wares, for a quick pre-match snack
Others to take aim, at the stern Peelers back.
If your aim was well practiced and you’re nut hit the cop
You felt like Jocky Wilson finishing
on double top.
She was hated by police
And the ground staff alike
The apprentices on Monday
felt like calling a strike.
Having to clear more spent shells
than a South Bronx shot up street
Shells that had been stomped
by thousands of feet
that throughout the match
jumped up and down
and an occasional knees up to old” Muvver Brown.”
On terraces packed
As kids were being passed
down to the front
Missus Minchella for sales with her basket would hunt.
With wicker basket, tied to her chest
She’d wade her way up the terrace
Parting the red and blue sea
of working class humanity
As easily as Victor Moses would part
the heart of an opposition defense.
Many’s the decent pre-match terrace brawl
was rudely interrupted by the threatening call
of Missus Minchella
“Stoppa you punching, you kicks and head butts
putta you hands in your pocket and buya my nuts.”
They always did.
She pulled a crafty substitution in Seventy – One.
Decimalization meaning we changed up our mon
She subbed the D for the P
said she was only doing her job
And now our cherished monkey nuts
cost just under a bob.
But she still said tanner.
“Peanuts forra a fourpence
A tanner a bagga.”
Then one mid- football season around the year Eighty -Four
At Palace Missus Minchella was not seen no more.
At first no one took much notice
But soon with the rumour mill we got a bad vibe
Was Missus Minchella dead or was she alive?
She was murdered by the Mafia
She was banned by the club
But all of these stories just didn’t add up
Nowadays. “ Find Missus Minchella” Facebook groups
Would spring to life
And Twitter pages would be rife
But then there was just gossip.
More than a Coronation street corner
or a Sky studio on transfer deadline.
She was reported seen, at the Den, Millwall
and selling nuts at the Albert Hall
At a Status Quo concert at Charlton’s Valley
and even outside the Hammersmith Palais.
She was sighted at Sainsburys more times than Elvis
But sadly — never again at the Palace.
Now the tannoy makes the pre-match noise
as fans look at their phones
Oblivious to the sounds of Elton and the Rolling Stones
But old timers claim to hear another sound
As they moan ‘bout peanuts for two pound
They swear that as the game gets near
a voice attacks their inner ear.
After maybe drinking too much Stella
they hear the voice of Lou-Lou Minchella
And despite the tannoy blaring out
the latest sounds of Lady Gaga
They hear the feeble, eerie cry
“ Peanuts forra a sixpence a tanner a bagga.”
The ghostly voice of Missus Minchella
The Crystal Palace peanut seller.
We’re an army blue and white,
Our hopes are high, our prospects bright.
On this, another Season’s eve,
Once more we truly do believe.
We represent our city,
Well, half of it at least.
There is another team, in red,
They’re not our cup of tea.
Our stadium’s name is Goodison,
A proper football ground –
Not Emirates or Etihad,
Or some such global brand.
Our keeper’s England’s Number One,
His derby clanger cost us dear –
Those hands no longer seem so safe,
A god once, now a mortal mere.
Nil Satis Nisi Optimum,
We mean it, it’s no joke,
Though sceptics scoff, sneer, say we’re nuts,
And ask us what we’ve smoked.
And so the glory-hunt goes on,
Though some may us deride.
Come on, you boys in blue and white,
Restore our dented pride!
Denys E. W. Jones
new season again
sweet success or dreaded drop
what will this one bring ?
Summer days still here
football’s back with faces new
same old battles too
sweep the past away
start that mighty push again
hang on to your hopes
past the strange new shirts
same old hue or in bamboo*
time to dream again
ev’ry time it’s here
make that promise to yourself
not to get so stressed
whatever you say
something draws you back each time
whoever you love
First game of a new season
always a fans delight,
make plans for the Saturday
excited on the Friday night.
Meet mates in the boozer
before going to the ground,
talk football between drinks
“don’t forget it’s your round.”
‘Reckon we’ll have a good campaign
and see us near to the top,
‘nah, we’re going to struggle
think we are going to drop. ‘
So we all head off to the match
it feels good to be back,
even though your team are rubbish
and hardly go on the attack.
But remember it’s a marathon
and not just a short sprint,
a season is a long one
which can leave you totally skint.
So you may lose your first fixture
leaving you a little bit glum,
but at least you’re not Coventry City
who will be playing “home” games away in Brum !
Now that’s a big relief
A massive weight off the shoulder
Our football club has been saved
But still the problem smoulder
Were not out the wood as yet
And we start the season no less
with no big thanks to the EFL
They could have prevented this mess.
There’s not just Bolton who have troubles
But a few more clubs besides
Notably Bury, their game is suspended
And this is where football divides
Whilst the premier league becomes richer
And with clubs like Bury in crisis
It puts the game into perspective
When you look at these transfer fee prices
The EFL should do a lot more
It’s the season ticket holders that pay
They are that clubs bread and butter
When a twelve point deduction enters play
With no vetting of dodgy owners
They allowed them to bleed the clubs dry
How many more will they allow past the gate
Who never have a money supply
We’ll kick off the season at Wycombe
A game I never thought would be played
Yet we desperately need more players
Many left coz they never got paid
But the EFL aren’t finished there
They’ll deduct more points for the strike
Again, it’s the fans that will suffer
Stop behaving like you’re the “Third Reich”
Estadio Metropolitano for the cup
The Reds were hardly sublime
Klopp was happy to soak it up
And lift Big Ears for the sixth time
Salah’s penalty wasn’t that sound
Twelve months, how time flies
Origi bangs, we’re Anfield bound
With the continents biggest prize
Spurs tried but lacked the kill
Total shutdown Alisson Becker
The City of Liverpool is at a standstill
As the Reds get the Double Decker
Rome Seventy Seven, London Seventy Eight
Henderson fulfills a dream
Paris Eighty One, a Rome Eighty Four date
Istanbul and Madrid Nineteen
© emdad rahman
The superb athleticism of Gini Wijnaldum.
I reserve no skepticism for the genie, Wijnaldum.
We deserve no criticism, we, his fandom.
The absurd cynicism that his skills are random!
The midfield at Anfield is strengthened by Gini.
The odds against failure are lengthened by Gini.
His goals against Barca frightened Ter Stegen.
Along with Origi he lightened our burden.
Selection’s assured for Georginio Wijnaldum-
his collection of goals would make a fine album.
His speed and his skills are the perfect amalgam
to feed constant thrills that keep us in thraldom.
74 in London, down old Wembley Way
Liverpool and Newcastle, the FA Cup Final they would play
Newcastle had been here 11 times before and for Liverpool it was their 5th
Liverpool had won it once before and The Geordies had won it 6
Ray Clemence was in goal for Liverpool
He was great at saving the ball
And stopping it at the other end for Newcastle
Was Coleraine’s own Willie McFaul
Alan Kennedy,T erry McDermott, Pat Howard and Frank Clark
Tommy Smith,Alec Lindsay, Phil Thompson and Peter Cormack
Newcastles captain was Bobby Moncur, he was getting great reviews
And for The Mighty Redmen it was ” Crazy Horse” Emlyn Hughes
Keegan, Heighway, Callaghan,T oshack and the Scot Brian Hall
Hibbit Tudor, Cassidy, Smith and Malcolm McDonald who could definitely score with a ball
100 000 filled Wembley, Scousers and Geordies the double act
It was one of the most one sided finals ,that’s a football fact.
No goals were scored in the first half but The Reds were in control
The second half would be different though with 3 strikes in the Newcastle goal
Keegan opened the scoring, 57 minutes of play
Red fans sang their hearts out, the banners started to sway
Heighway made it number 2 with 75 minutes on the clock
Wembley was really bouncing now, Red fans knew how to rock
88 minutes played now, Keegan scores, he’s got the 3rd
The FA Cup is for Liverpool, the land of the Liverbird
This turned out to be Shankly’s last match, oh why oh why o why?
He resigned from Liverpool Football Club later that July
This was Shankly’s 2nd FA Cup, after winning it in 65
One of the greatest managers to ever be alive.
My Dad came home the other night, he’d found these 6 wee pups
He said I think we’ll name them after European Cups
I don’t know where he got them, but I don’t think they were free
Born to a lovely mother her name called Shankly
We’ll call the first one ROME son, the first European Cup Final for The Reds
And here’s a weena pound for you,go out ‘n by 6 beds
He said ROME will always bring good memories to a Father and a Son
Goals from McDermott.Smith ‘n Neal,the scoreline was 3 1
The second pup we called WEMBLEY, two years in a row
Dad didn’t buy the pup a lead, just a pure red bow
He said if that pup’s hungry it’s food is on the shelf
We beat Club Brugge by 1nil that night, A goal from King Kenny himself
The third pup was simply named PAISLEY as he’d won it 3 times now
81 in Paris Barney Rubble take a bow
Real Madrid came looking to defeat the famous “Pool”
1 nil the scoreline yet again, The Reds they kept their cool
The fourth pup wouldn’t stop barking, Dad was ready to get the gun
I shouted no no no Dad this one it’s called FAGAN
I said it’s legs are shaky just like Grobbellaar that night
We won 4 2 on penalties, old Big Ears wearing red ribbons again, oh my what a sight.
The 5th pup was very easy to name, RAFA it was called
A magic night in Istanbul, A 3 goal deficit overhauled
AC Milan thought they had it won celebrating with their fans
But never write off The Liverbird as it had other plans
3 0 down and all you could hear was You’ll Never Walk Alone
Liverpool with number 5, it was coming home
The 6th pup was a German Shepherd and we had to call it KLOPP
After our amazing manager who’s taking us back to the top
This pup was also funny as it didn’t have a bark
And wagged its’ tail every time it heard the sweet silver song of The Lark
Yes Madrid we made it number 6 for European Cups
And me ‘n Dad had so much fun naming all these little pups.
They told me there was a man who lived on the moon
And that it was made of cheese
They also convinced that soon
We could come and go there as we please
And so we joined the countdown for take-off
Watched the orbit and the landing
Marvelling all the while
At a feat so outstanding
Unto the Sea of Tranquility
Have stepped 12 men good and true
Not forgetting those on the spaceship
All vastly essential crew
And so we could form a squad
From those who exited the space-station
All suited and booted, in away kit shod
Lining out in formation
As the first to step out onto Lunar Park (sponsor tbc)
Neil Armstrong would have to be captain of the team
His sound-bites still so iconic
They adorn many a memorable meme
Charles “Pete” Conrad
12 proud men standing tall
But pray do tell, who was the nit
Who forgot to bring the ball ?!?!?!