We seemed to talk of it for ever,
The pair of us, going to watch a game
So me dad bought tickets for the terraces
And suddenly a youngsters life, was never quite the same.
Jam packed double deckers
Crawling down The New Kings Road
A short walk up from Parsons Green
After strolling through a park, to Fulham’s Craven Cottage home.
Rowing crews on the river Thames
Went spurting off toward a bend
As families, fans and long time friends
Looked toward a past years end.
Snake like queues at the turnstiles
The wiff of hot chestnuts in the street
A nip of brandy to warm yer cockles
As excessed masses stamped cold feet.
“Home Fans” said a blackboard
One click, that’s it, yer in
Treasured stub stuffed in yer pocket
Midst the rattles and the singing.
“Cor don’t the pitch look lovely?”
With morning dew still on the grass
It’s Fulham, Man United and suddenly
It’s here and now the action starts.
“Keep it away from Bobby Charlton
Look out for Georgie Best
That Johnny Haynes plays with his brains
Oi ref that Denis Law’s a pest!”
I’ve absolutely no idea what year it was?
And to be straight up honest I don’t care
But I recall a St Stephens morning, Craven Cottage
And that lovely everlasting memory
Of me dad and me, stood together, cheering there!