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When Saturday Came

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Smoke drifts out on the floodlit dusk,
Over a mass of humanity banked skywards.
Smells of tobacco, fried onions, stale beer.
The crowd surges, sways – packed tight.
GOAL! – waves of faces tumble forward,
A hungry roar fills the stadium.
Thousands of voices glory their team –
‘The greatest there’s ever been’.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Players’ shouts, a blur of movement
Across the bright green field.
Then the sharp, piercing whistle. Full time, 1 – 0.
Kids race across the pitch, mobbing their heroes.
Brass band marches fill the air, and
The terraces empty into dark, wet side streets.
Pink finals appear and are devoured.
Fourth from top, with a game in hand.

9

Notes

Affectionate reflections on a long-gone era. An era SKY sports and all the foriegn mercenaries will never understand.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/when-saturday-came/