Football Poets

United at the Cottage

By some Herculean twist of extended family fate
I get to see United play their southern heirs
Fulham at the Cottage
At the turn of the Millenium and in the wake of
Those late great touches from Sheringham! And Solskjaer!!

At the Riverside Stand queue there’s noticeably less testosterone in the air
Replaced by Envy, Chanel N.5 and Givenchy
Fewer expletives as little Miles and Theo stare blankly at their tickets
Mother returns to the safety of the people carrier
‘See you guys later’

The game begins and Fulham hit the bar
Then force the clown Barthez into a finger-tip save before United run up the other end
And Giggs sticks it in
Disgruntled home fans settle themselves into some mediocre north-south abuse
Disappointing given they’re mostly script writers from up White City way

Several men speculate loudly about Giggs’ sexuality
Which seems rich coming from those who spend alternate Saturdays
In the company of fellow Cottagers
Before a flowing move involving only two reds doubles the lead
The home side hit back immediately and trail by one at the break

The half time entertainment is priceless with compere ‘Diddy’ David Hamilton
Overseeing a penalty shoot out competition wherein
Stuart from Manchester ends up sharing a year’s worth of free pizza
With local lad David
Whose curious hands in pockets approach pays dividends

The second half brings one more goal apiece
And honours appear even
The home side losing little in defeat
And as I watch Becks and Co troop off
I calculate how much they have earned for that ninety minutes of toil

We head home through the well-healed Victorian terraces
That blockade the old ground against the river
Past shiny BMWs and reflections of fathers sat at parlour desks
A lone fan shouts ‘There’s only one team in Fulham’
He’s right.

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