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The Big (Headed) Club

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 I won’t say they’re big-headed, but when Bowez won the double,
They had to knock the turnstiles down, reduce them all to rubble.
The reason that they had to go to such a lot of trouble,
Was because their head size grew,
And they couldn’t fit them through.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 I won’t say they’re big-headed, and it’s not meant as a dig,
But any club in Ireland that describes itself as “big”
Is badly self-delusional, like dear old Elton’s wig.
It barely is conceivable
They find it so believable.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 I won’t say they’re big-headed, but I’m not a fan of Crowe,
Compared to Jason and O’Flynn, he’s overweight and slow,
And Kerr just brings him on when there is not too long to go,
In case he mucks it up
And knocks us out the Cup.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 I won’t say they’re big-headed, but they claim their fans are best,
The loudest and most colourful, and also self-impressed,
But where were those supporters when their fortunes were depressed?
They filled a minibus
When they went to Belarus.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 I won’t say they’re big-headed, but they love that Jodi Stand,
And there aren’t many in the league who’ll argue it’s not grand,
A pity, though, the other sides are desolate and bland,
A wasteland that T.S.
Eliot would not profess.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 I won’t say they’re big-headed, but whenever Bowez win,
Their immodest celebrations really get beneath your skin.
They never try to overcome that seventh deadly sin,
The one to do with pride
When your head is three feet wide.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 I won’t say they’re big-headed, but bould Roddy felt at home,
Before he left to travel over land and sea and foam,
Before he felt he needed to uproot himself and roam
Among the ferns and gorse,
To a “bigger club” of course.

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 I won’t say they’re big-headed, oh, okay, perhaps I will,
And Kevin Keeganesque, I’d love to stuff them seven nil,
And boy, the celebrations when we’re witnessing the kill.
Just once, dear God, I pray,
It would really make my day.

Notes

Okay, this is a bit cruel.
The problem with arrogant clubs, like Bohemians is that they have a lot to be arrogant about.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-big-headed-club/?shared=email&msg=fail