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The Ballad of Manchester United

Kevin Connolly

Wednesday, October 25th, 2006

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Each time I hear Old Trafford roar
I get really excited.
There’s nothing like the thrill you get
While watching Man United.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Though he’s no Peter Schmeichel
He’s a renowned superstar
Keeping the goal poachers at bay,
He’s Edwin Van Der Sar.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 He may not be a simple bloke
Driving a Ford Fiesta,
But he’s the best Frenchman in town,
A brick wall called Silvestre.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 The strikers ran towards him but
He simply scared ’em and
They ran away like little girls
From Rio Ferdinand.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 He doesn’t often play, but when
He does he goes to town
And tears apart rivals’ attacks –
Our brown bomber, Wes Brown.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 Each time United win, he grins
Just like a big red Devil…
He’s Man United through and through,
The brilliant Gary Neville.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 With Heinze, Evra and Vidic
This defending is a lark.
Our rivals run a mile from Carrick,
Richardson and Park.

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 He doesn’t live the lifestyle of
A rock star, all au fait,
As hard as Cork building-site nails
Is our lad John O’Shea.

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 He may not be Robson or Keane,
But he will be – I betcha.
He’s getting better every day,
The big yin Darren Fletcher.

10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 He doesn’t need a sight of goal,
He only needs a whiff…
He snaps at people’s ankles like a terrier –
Alan Smith.

11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 I’d walk a million miles to see
One of his special goals…
God broke the mould the day that He
Created wee Paul Scholes.

12 Leave a comment on verse 12 0 His ball-control’s beyond compare,
Like Tiger or Nick Faldo…
That ball must be glued to his foot –
There’s only one Ronaldo.

13 Leave a comment on verse 13 0 A genius skims through the defence,
Ignoring kicks and digs…
The opposition drool and dribble
Watching Ryan Giggs.

14 Leave a comment on verse 14 0 He scores so often that
The crowd now simply go ‘Aha!’
He’s a magician on the ball…
It’s in the net – Saha!

15 Leave a comment on verse 15 0 The baby-faced assassin doesn’t
Smoke or have a jar.
He lives just for the onion bag,
That goal-machine Solksjaer.

16 Leave a comment on verse 16 0 And who’s that in the goal box,
Grinning like a Mersey loony?
He looks so weird in that short beard –
He’s scored! Woohoo! Wayne Rooney!

17 Leave a comment on verse 17 0 We’ll never see his like again,
That Govan lad so rare…
Some call him Alex Ferguson –
But we all call him ‘Sir!’

© Kevin Connolly 2006

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-ballad-of-manchester-united/