Been to Walsall, Barnsley, Grimsby Town
Huddersfield and Carlisle
Had me right fair share of ups and down
I fondly look back at and smile.
When it’s you stood against the elements
On them proverbial Wednesday draws
There’s scant sign you’ve any intelligence
If you had, you’d have stayed indoors.
Quagmire pitches, basic stands
Cold hot pies and tepid tea
T’was like some sojourn to a foreign land
For West London mates and me.
Gay Meadow, one fine Saturday
Three down, and hung out to dry
Yet we clapped and sung our songs in ways
Brought a tear to the driest eye.
“Them Londoners need to get a grip”
As we cheered and sang in hope
Have Shrews who couldn’t quite believe it
Ever seen such raw emotion?
Wrexham, Oldham, Coventry,
Southampton, Blackburn Rovers
Giving it everything they had, and our clubs life almost over.
More comebacks made than Lazarus
Once behind we would get in gear
Yet those nights when sheer courage dazzled us
Will remain in our hearts for years.
Last minute winners, fluke own goals
Anything would do
Who cares when you’re numb from the rain and cold?
As long as the flukes for you.
Up North for thrilling match days
To the Midlands or North East
We’d travel on these mad crusades
For our fix of a wishful ninety minutes.
Those “We’ve no chance” cup runs top the lot
Especially if it’s your day
On train back to The Smoke you’d be dreaming of
An FA Cup Final come May!
From the news it seems we’ve a makeshift defender
A fifty million quid Spanish boy
From the days of this poem I can fondly remember
A ferocious committed colossus by the name of Micky Droy!