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The Pink Un

S B Ingle

Friday, November 7th, 2014

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 I’m old enough to remember when the Pink Un was pink
Printed on paper, on match day, in ink
No radio coverage, no game on TV
If you didn’t go to the match, you waited, like me

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 If you couldn’t get to the ground to see your team live
You’d have to wait in the newsagent from twenty past five
You’d know the score, result in no doubt
But what actually happened, well, you knew nowt

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 As people filtered in, we’d shuffle along
With an eye on the clock, counting time gone
Each time the shop bell gave a jangle
Two hundred eyes flicked like arrows to see a kid wanting Spangles

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Some would come in for their ‘Even Nooz’
Or a box of Weekend and a quarter of wrapped spearmint chews
They’d look surprised to see the shop packed so full
And squeezed through a gap to the door and pushed ‘Pull’

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 On wet days, the damp would rise in the air
Tobacco and windy dogs gave the shop atmosphere
The owner kept reassuring, ‘they won’t be long’
Our hopes went up at each van, to be wrong

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 At last! The pile of Pink Uns would come
A cheer would go up, though our feet were now numb
We each peeled a copy hot off the press
They disappeared faster than a good egg ‘n’ cress

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 The shop emptied in seconds, we’d paid in advance
We’d glance through match details, note every chance
Examine the table to see who was top
Behind us we left a damp empty shop

Notes

I’d have been ten when I first joined the people waiting for the Pink Un. I can also remember buying the Pink Un supplement emblazoned “Cheers for the First Time!” when Norwich City were first promoted to the, then top flight, First Division.

After listening to the classified football results read by James Alexander Gordon – still love hearing the Sports Report music at 5pm Saturdays, l’d
dash up the road to our local paper shop, Burys, run by Mr Bury and his daughter Margaret. I’d patiently wait for my copy, the money was taken in advance, so when the Pink Uns arrived it was all waving, grabbing arms as we swooped and were back outside in no time. I’d run home, cutting through the alleys of the estate to read my copy cover to cover.

I enjoy listening to NCFC away games on local radio and listen to commentaries of other teams on Five Live, Sports X, and Talksport, watch the Champions League, Europa Cup, FA Cup road to Wembley on TV what seems like most nights even though I haven’t subscribed to a sports channel. But nothing matches the anticipation of those Pink Uns.

Having switched to white paper in the 1990s, The Pink Un exists online these days with a supplement printed in Mondays paper.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-pink-un/