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The most powerful person in football today,
You will see me at every game.
Thousands pay heed to the things that I say,
And I sit back and bask in the fame.
I can praise a young prospect and make him a god,
Or destroy him with withering flak.
My pen is my sword,
And I wield it when bored,
I enjoy being a crusty, old hack.
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‘Tis many years now since I last kicked a ball,
I can’t see my feet for my belly,
But that doesn’t make any difference at all,
You don’t need great skill to watch telly.
The earth gives a shake when my venom is raised,
And I plump for an all-out attack.
Great managers quail
If their egos are frail,
That’s the power of the crusty, old hack.
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The chairmen in football have money to burn,
And wield such inordinate power,
And megastars get so much more than they earn,
But before me, they quiver and cower.
For public opinion is easily led,
And don’t think that I’ll cut any slack.
I could give you Sepp Blatter’s
Large head on a platter,
Served up by the crusty, old hack.
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Publicity is the most powerful force,
And black and white shades can be blurred.
The slant is extremely important of course,
And the nuance that’s placed on each word.
I craft my reports with a bias in mind,
Over years I’ve developed the knack.
“Sympathetic” and “tender”
Aren’t on my agenda –
Bow down to the crusty, old hack.
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Oh, give me a soundbite, a fat, juicy quote,
And I promise I’ll be your true friend.
Just tip me the wink about stories of note,
And I’ll stand by you right to the end.
But cross me, or shun me, and woe be your fate,
Misfortune will live on your back.
I can hold you up high,
Leave you hanging to dry,
So beware of the crusty, old hack.