Football Poets

REMINISCENCES

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 I’m here to reminisce today,of times that have gone by,
when goal-keepers could catch the ball and wingers they could fly.

¶ 2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 I think back to the year of nineteen-seventy,
and to my mind comes vixions of Sir Alf and Bertie Mee.

¶ 3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 So I sit back now and wonder and start to reminiisce
and I start to make a note of all the things I miss.

¶ 4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 I miss Law, Best and Charlton, the holy trinity,
and up the road at City, Lee, Bell and Summerbee.

¶ 5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 I miss the school of Science, Harvey,Kendall, Ball.
and the Liverpool intelligentia,Heighway and Brian Hall.

¶ 6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 Their was some real hard cases, unlike nowadays,
the likes of Stiles and Storey would terrify the Krays.

¶ 7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 The players today are fitter and run around much faster,
but they’re pumped up full of nutrients and force fed lousy pasta.

¶ 8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 The modern players love— to show their abs off when they score,
and find the nearest puddle and slide along the floor.

¶ 9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 I miss the Scottish wingers and the crosses they supplied,
you never had a chance without atleast one in your side.

¶ 10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 I miss the terrace surge and the chanting of the crowd,
and the mighty Kop at Liverpool, where they sang ” Walk on” out loud.

¶ 11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 Players like Greaves and Osgood they liked to drink and bet,
but when it came to Saturday, they always found the net.

¶ 12 Leave a comment on verse 12 0 So while the Nevilles and Petit are tucked up with their toys,
Mackay, Gilzean and Baxter were drinking with the boys.

¶ 13 Leave a comment on verse 13 0 Now, you win a tackle it means on your sleeve you wear your heart,
and if you use your left foot, for England you can start.

¶ 14 Leave a comment on verse 14 0 I miss the breed of manager who came up from the pit,
who could control his players and wouldn’t take no shit.

¶ 15 Leave a comment on verse 15 0 I miss the players chewing gum and spitting on the floor,
I miss the Highbury North Bank and the Roker Roar.

¶ 16 Leave a comment on verse 16 0 Our goalies were the cream,—- of the world wide ranks,
Shilton, Jennings, Stepney—-Bonnetti,Wilson,Banks.

¶ 17 Leave a comment on verse 17 0 Now they need a special coach to teach them punching ball,
and they’ve probably got a voice coach to teach them how to call.

¶ 18 Leave a comment on verse 18 0 I remember goalies rubbing mud into an ungloved palm,
at places like the Baseball ground which was like a muddy farm.

¶ 19 Leave a comment on verse 19 0 Now they dribble cockily, towards the half-way line,
but a nice Ron Davis body charge would surely change their mind.

¶ 20 Leave a comment on verse 20 0 I miss the sliding tackle on a rainy day ,
as I think of Chopper Harris and Celtic’s David Hay.

¶ 21 Leave a comment on verse 21 0 The players rarely missed a match cos they needed every coin,
no pulling up in pre match and crying “ooooh my groin.”

¶ 22 Leave a comment on verse 22 0 The team sheet for many teams was the same on each match day,
Leeds started with Sprake in goal and eleven Eddy Gray.

¶ 23 Leave a comment on verse 23 0 Arsenal had Bob Wilson and ended with Armstrong,
and you were not a cult figure cos your name was sung in song.

¶ 24 Leave a comment on verse 24 0 I miss Carlos Satori and Chelsea’s Charlie Cook,
and “Arry Cripps ” at Millwall and City’s Tony Book.

¶ 25 Leave a comment on verse 25 0 Ian Harte and Beckham, kings of the dead ball,
but with the old lace up heavy weight , what would be their toll?

¶ 26 Leave a comment on verse 26 0 No! we had no moaning Dutchmen,or money grabbing French,
and we only needed one sub to sit upon the bench.

¶ 27 Leave a comment on verse 27 0 So as I watch the likes of Bergkamp,—Anelka and Verone,
where art thou Jim Montgomery, where are you Dick Malone.

¶ 28 Leave a comment on verse 28 0 So good luck to the premier, where everyone’s a star,
but I still yearn for the seventies and the likes of Willie Carr.