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Watching The Prospectives.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Me idols playing away
Left me FA to do with me day
Till I heard part time pros
Were at home up the road
So I decided I’d go and see them play.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Two teams who outnumbered us fans
Showed up in a mix match of vans
One bore name of a brickie,
A spark and a chippie
On a transit they’d painted by hand.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Dodgy seats, a stone terrace, a stand
A well played on pitch mostly sand
Was the stage for this game?
And the arena where “a name”
Might be seen in it’s infancy by us fans.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 As steaming hot Bovril was drunk
By local grandfathers, dads and grandsons
The two teams trudged out
To an echo of shouts
Given up by a lone ball-boys mum.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Said atmosphere went for a walk
As the sound of the put upon ball
Being whacked in the air
By two team with no flair
Sent necks craning skywards in boredom.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 Ashford Town (Kent) the travelling team
Had been getting the rub of the green
It seemed to me they would win
Till this old bloke started slinging
Dog’s abuse at some kid on the wing.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 For the whole of the first half it went
Anger slung at this youngster from Kent
Who could do nothing right
In the elderly eyes of this guy,
So much so he got pulled… to the bench.

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 The whole team got coated in full
By a volley of harsh ridicule
And yet these the part-timers
Including one or two minors?
Were just playing for love, not reward.

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 Their centre forward? Yeah his turn was next
To be chastised by a fan who had trekked
All the way from Ashford in Kent
His pent up anger to vent
By giving it large to his team in the neck.

10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 All us neutrals thought something amiss
At this old feller taking the Mick
Was he having a laugh?
No. The name on his scarf
Proclaimed: Ashford Town (Kent) A.F.C.

3

Notes

In my younger days as a die hard follower of football matches I’ve been known to have watched Dulwich Hamlet, Kingstonians and one or two other semi-pro outfits, usually only if they were playing against Chelsea in pre-season.

This game, I refer to in the poem, was contested by my local semi pro side in North West London and Ashford Town (Kent). We have to call them that coz there’s an Ashford Town (Middlesex) as well, for those of you out there who don’t know.

Anyway I digress. Why an elderly bloke would travel all that way and part with his hard earned cash to stand in the cold chastising a bunch of part-timers who’re playing the game purely for the love of it, is way beyond me. That he knew all their names and had obviously been to a lot of their home and away matches, judging by the scarve he was wearing. I also find pretty baffling.

Peace.

Kev.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/watching-the-prospectives/