Three-O-Clock Saturday. R.I.P.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 In an half empty boozer, I stare at me pint
It’s Saturday lunchtime, it could be Monday night
I look at me watch, it ain’t moving an inch
Though I reckon it’s quarter to three
Then aIl of a sudden I’m starting to think
There’s somewhere that I’m supposed to be.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 No Saint and Greavsie, no On The Ball
No Football Focus? No, nothing at all
Where is this place that I should be?
I look up the road, it ain’t there
As three o clock comes what do i see?
Nothing. The streets are all empty and bare.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 The pub atmosphere’s flat like the Guinness
As muzak assaults both me ears
Whilst corpse looking fella’s are singing
Some song about pubs with no beer.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Where’s the supporters who follow their clubs
Come hell or high water they used to queue up
Tickets prices have gone into orbit,
Telephone numbers they want
I don’t wanna buy a castle with a drawbridge
Just two match seats for a bloke and his daughter or son.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 A big plasma Sky screen is showing a match
Where a hero’s kicked over a goal
I lean cross the table, and enquire of the chaps
“That little blonde bloke, any one I would know?”.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 “Nah mate I don’t do the rugby
So I don’t know the in’s or the outs
If the football was in reach, I’d be off cheering me club
But Sky sadly has much too much clout.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Playing most games on a Sunday
Or a Monday night when I’m eating me tea
Derby v Fulham at a quarter to eight?
More action down Rozamon Street”.

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 I look round the boozer, take in what’s been said
I can’t help but nod and agree
Is three-o-clock Saturday now buried and dead
Killed by Murdoch and Sky tv’s greed?



Three-o-clock on a Saturday afternoon with no Premier league matches being played, so no football on the radio, inspired this poem.

I should be working, this afternoon, but took a break to pen this as I’m getting extremely worried.

Beware, be very aware, matchless Saturdays could be the future of our game as we know it, if Murdoch and his millions have their say / way.

Rise up you loyal supporters,
In yer thousands raise the call
We don’t want matches we watch stuck indoors.

We want seats at the live game
Not some blimmin Sky Monday night game
That everyone football fan can afford!

Rant over and out



Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/three-o-clock-saturday-r-i-p/