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When You’ve A Real Yen…For The Den. (For Chrissy)

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Along leafy lanes in The Vale of Kent
A pal of mine careering went
Racing in his van against the clock
His mind on ten to three
Where his sacred, ‘Lions’ trod the green
Dominant, as he came screeching to a stop.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 In the comfort of his van,
“No-one likes us…”, proudly sang
Waiting on a set of temporary lights to change
He could almost feel the rush
Comes to a billion fans like us
Of a Saturday prior to a tribal game.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Tapping chants out on the dash
Millwall tee shirt on his back
His van a mausoleum to, ‘The Den’
Comprising coloured shots of Cripps,
Sheringham, Kitchener, the pitch,
Hurlock that most feared of Millwall men.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Traffic lights turned green
He was singing loud, dead keen
To get his derriere in gear roaring for home
Though the car in of him front hadn’t moved
His, “We are Millwall”, kind of mood
Gave him heart, he’d soon be on the go.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Lights returned to green
There was instant change from chilled to mean
Once again, the car in front stayed still
Screaming, honking on his horn,
“Oi mister! Move that bleating wreck of yourn”,
At the bloke, in front, sat behind the wheel.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 Still angrily bib bib bibbing on his horn
Repeating get a bleating move on warning
He nervously kept looking at the clock
Suddenly Kent’s lush leafy lanes
Swept by shards of angry rain
Worried him, he’d fail to make the kick-off.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Lights went green again
Any thoughts of Cold Blow Lane
Lost, replaced by angry horn’s tirade
The car in fronts door opened wide
It’s tired suspension breathed a sigh
When…this Adonis in his glory stood up straight.

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 A real sense of purpose to his stride
Strode geezer like toward, this pal of mine,
Arriving at his van by the driver’s door
Where he quickly grabbed me china’s keys
“YOU try an start my motor, I’ll hold these,
an stand here, bib bib bibbing on your bleating horn”!

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 “Okay, fair dos”, purred nonplussed Chrissy
Fired fella’s car up in a jiffy
Jumped in his van, roaring off to laud the chaps
Only to be left totally gob-smacked later that same day
When, what was deemed a cruel wicked twist of fate…,
Adonis, silenced fans of the “Lions”, with…the last kick of the match.

10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 Peace.

11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 Kev.

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Notes

The above poem is ever so loosely based on a story a mate of mine – Millwal fan Chrissy, one of three I profess to knowing – told me over dinner, one balmy night, out in Hammamet, Tunisia while on holiday.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/when-youve-a-real-yen-for-the-den-for-chrissy/