|

This Here’s A New One On Me.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 A ploy to psyche up team and fans
For the following evenings staple
Was put in captain’s capable hands
For our return with team from Naples

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Was he tellying porkies?
Had senior service gone on strike
Since our last gaffer went a walkies
It seemed to us fans as like.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 There was nuff respect for Fabio
In captain’s chinwag on the box
As a silent Robbie Di-Matteo
Sat beside him calm and watched.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 We trapped like greyhounds round ‘The Stow’*
When the Doctor blew his pea
Last chance saloon for some of our old pros
Loomed large in intensity.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Could we hold the team from Naples?
With their thrusting catenaccio
Three times our keeper saved us
As they broke fast and cut us open.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 When The Drog put his nut on a sizzler
We was one nil up and hot
Then our skipper flicked another in
Thus claiming our second pot.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 They pulled one back with a diamond
That cut through our defence
Racing across the glistening ground
Before caressing our empty net.

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 A nailed on pen restored our lead
We were due a touch of luck
Alan Green even breathed a sigh of relief
When the ET sign beamed up.

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 When Branislav crashed the winner in
West London went radio rental
Then the whistle went signifying fin
To an evening so eventful.

10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 As Robbie raced on to field of play
To join in and receive our praise
Was there an awkward moment a senior player?
Couldn’t quite place our stand in’s face?

11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 In the post match all was forgotten
We’re still in the draw with a shout
Lady Luck might throw us a soft ‘un’
Come this Friday we’ll soon find out.

12 Leave a comment on verse 12 0 Now don’t let me ruin the victors dream
But something didn’t feel right
Are JT and his mates actually picking our team?
Coz that’s how it looked last night!

7

Notes

S’right at the end of the game last night, Robbie (our stand in manager/ gaffer / head honcho) ran on to the pitch, to celebrate with the chaps, and one of our boys looked at him, couldn’t or didn’t want to recognise him, and then finally grasping he was our teams manager, doh! Forced out a smile for him and the TV camera’s!

Who picked the team for last night that’s what I wanna know?
Was JT taken off, so he could do his shouting from the bench?
Just a theory or two that I’m nurturing.

Carefree…we’re off to Battersea, Moscow, Kiev or The White City.

Go well and be lucky.

Peace.

Kev.

*Walthamstow was once a popular North London greyhound track, more commonly known to us Londoners as: The Stow.

Last nights ref was an actual Doctor.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/this-heres-a-new-one-on-me/