The Days Of Billy Bremner

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 The smell of Bovril and a cigarette,
A long hard season and it isn’t over yet.
I purchased a programme
From this old chap before the game,
A shudder up my spine I felt
When I read his name.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 The clocks ticking down, it’s nearly 5 to 3,
I’m looking at the tunnel,
That’s where he’ll be.
Captain of a team that wears all white,
These boys could play,
And they could fight.
They’ll be up and ready just you wait and see.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 I can still remember,
The days of Billy Bremner.
Skipper of Leeds
When they reined the league supreme.
In the days of Billy Bremner,
I can still remember,
With his hair like fire
He played and lived his dream

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 He would growl and snarl into their face,
Close them down
And deny them space.
A terrier type of player,
His mission was to win the ball,
This wee man had a game that was 10 feet tall.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 He would have a slight word into their ear,
He planted doubt he planted fear.
Only one Billy Bremner
Will we ever see.
A master of player psychology,

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 A shudder at the very mention of his name,
The biggest little rascal that ever played the game.



Twice in the 1990’s I went to see Leeds Old Stars at Penkridge in Staffordshire. ‘Is Bremner on the coach? was the question I kept on hearing when the team arrived. He still had that charisma.

If only the wee rascal and his mates were in their prime and on the coach for this season.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-days-of-billy-bremner/