1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Seems that every team
needs one these days:
someone to blame for
all the failings of the team:
if a pass goes astray
blame the scapegoat;
if a chance is missed
blame the scapegoat;
if the centre half falls
flat on his face then it
must be the scapegoat’s fault.
Fans fill their lungs
and vent their collective
spleen on the scapegoat,
spitting out their vitriol
on their unsuspecting victim.
In the eighties at Swindon
it was Steve Foley,
marauding Scouse midfielder
whose every touch was greeted
with howls of derision from the terraces;
yet ‘Stigger’ scored a stunning
volley at Ewood, the Darwen end
a sea of writhing bodies.
Then it was Reeeeeeeves,
twin brother of David, Alan,
who had the unfortunate habit
of shanking it into the stands;
classic own goal against the
Posh in relegation scrap
springs to mind.
Now it’s wily old campaigner Ward,
a defender in the Reeves mould:
turning circle of an oil tanker, granted
but honest as the day is long;
grizzled old defender who
makes mistakes, now the fans
are getting on his back
and he’s getting it in the neck.
To misquote Rooney:
‘never nice when your
own fans boo yer.’



So Swindon, like every other team, has a few players who are a bit slow and make the odd mistake. Big wow! Does this give so called fans the right to boo members of their own team as they did to Darren Ward on Saturday? There’s a very easy and short answer to this question.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/scapegoat/