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In a little Yorkshire village that Maggie helped destroy
A Grandfather meets his Grandson who’s no more a little boy
The Grand-son’s a millennial, born the year of ninety five
And his grand-dad’s nearly ninety and just barely alive.
The Grandson he loves football, his heroes are Scholes and Shearer
Grand-dad loves his football too, but from a very different era.
The Grandson’s from London and for a few days is staying
With Grand-dad oop North, in a house now decaying.
The old man rolls a ciggie, then sticks on the tea
And tells his young grandson to turn on the TV.
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“Here put this old tape on – you kids have the knack
It will show you real footballers and what nowadays they lack.”
The lad eyed the cover when he pressed video to play
It was all about football from way back in the day.
As they made themselves comfy and turned up the sound
The Grandfather smiled and the young fellow frowned.
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They watch Man U – Benfica — Eintract Frankfurt – Madrid
Celtic ‘gainst Inter and Giles – Banksy and Kidd.
They view Finney and Blanchflower and many more from the past
But the Grandson just said, “They don’t look very fast.
Do you know Zaha runs a hundred in nine point nine secs?
And no one hits a football like Shearer or Becks.”
As the lad kept on talking he watched Charlton with the ball
Who cracked one from fifty past the keeper McFaul.
“Now that’s how you hit em lad – that was some mighty thud
And look at that football all covered in mud.”
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“Look at that pitch and those two footed tackles”
said the Grandson, before saying, “Stiles should be tied up in shackles”
The grandfather smiled, his eyes glistening with glee.
As he watched Norman Hunter chop down Franny Lee.
They watched Greaves playing for Tottenham
Of whom the lad didn’t think much
“He strolled through that game, hardly getting a touch.
Do you know Kane runs for Spurs
Seven- point three – miles a game?
It doesn’t look like Greaves does anywhere the same.”
“You weren’t focusing thy lad, you were lookin at thy phone
Jimmy Greaves scored four goals there, all made on his own.”
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They watched Lee, Bell and Summerbee and clips of George Best
As the young lad checked Facebook he wasn’t impressed.
“He was drunk on the pitch, but just look at his pace.”
But his Grandson just shrugged, and said, “he’s an absolute disgrace.
Do you know that sports scientists
To a man they insist
It takes a week to recover
if you go out and get pissed?”
“Aye lad, I do hear you, but he was the best player alive
And I don’t know if you noticed in that match he scored five.”
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They watched Osgood and Matthews, Peters and Hurst
And a scorcher from Lorimer when the goal net near burst.
They watched Moore and Jeff Astle – Jim Baxter and Law
But the grandfather’s, grandson was not one bit in awe.
“They all look so slender, so dainty, and so thin
And they all have their socks rolled down on their shin.
Their bodies are lacking a muscled, ripped definition
Not enough pasta, Creatine or nutrition.”
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“Believe you me young lad them there were tough times
I worked with the hardest men down in the mines.
Those players they got kicked and nowt did complain
None of them dived, or an injury feign.”
The grandson he argued – his generation is more strong
And his grandfather offed the telly, and told him he’s wrong.
He took a pull on his ciggie and his lungs started to pant
His face reddened up and he started to rant.
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“You can stick your metatarsals and your Health and Safety looneys
All your foreign coaches and your Beckhams and your Rooneys
Keep your snooker table pitches and the blow footballs that you use
Bring back the old characters that liked to gamble and to booze.”
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Then out of the blue there was a mysterious sound
As a plaque with a medal fell onto the ground.
The grandson retrieved it from the carpeted floor
And when he had read it, he’d slag Grand-dad no more.
The engraved medal read — Arthur Suggett June 6 – 44
For your Gallantry on Junu Beach upon the Norman shore
And for the bullets that you took and for all the lives you helped to save
This medal goes to heroes and the toughest of the Brave.
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“How awesome,” said the Grandson, “I had no idea you were such a hero.”
As he straightaway forgot about Paul Scholes and Alan Shearer.
“It’s nowt thy lad,” said Grand-dad shyly, “it’s only a piece of metal.
Now put that stupid phone away and stick on thy bloody kettle.”