The Last One To Leave.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Alone in the seats heart beat racing
Watching the hordes shuffle out
He don’t mind the time he’ll spend waiting
For the beat in his chest to slow down.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Reliving those fraught final moments
When the odds of them winning were short
He ponders on not going homing yet
Till he’s savoured the nectar he sought.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 A last minute winner had sent the crowd mad
There was kissing and hugging and tears
When the frenzy subsided one or two well built lads
Sported beetroot complexions plus ears.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 The second half angst was forgotten
When the ball snugly sat in their net
Now with luck on his side he’s so brazen
He might even visit The Stow for a bet.*

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 A second was all that was needed
To set the crowd roaring again
As he ponders the smiling fans leaving
He is warmed as it pours down with rain.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 The pitch bears the marks of a contest
Where real courage was needed to win
With a nod toward a rain sodden goal net
He relives when that winner crashed in.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Finally leaving his seat he stares round at the place
He’s been coming to loyally for years
With the floodlights reflecting the rain on his face
He savours that moment of mayhem again
When a last minute winner caused….
Two well built lads, to sport beetroot complexions plus ears!



We’ve all done it aint we? When a late one crashes in to nick the spoils, and we’re up out of our seats to a man and a woman going radio rental whilst we’re hugging and kissing complete strangers! Course we ave, it’s all part of going to the game innit?

Carefree……braised in Celery.

Go well and be lucky.



*The Stow is the nickname given to the now defunct and sadly missed Walthamstow greyhound racing track over in East London.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-last-one-to-leave/?shared=email&msg=fail