Football Poets

Joe Kinnear- a tribute

Joe Kinnear always in the know
Farewell to the show
To the football pitch
Never kitsch
Joe Kinnear
Where the White Hart Lane
Purists were in mutual appreciation
Of his valuable sense of
Morality which always seemed to
Be the agenda of the day
Joe was always there
Impassable and impenetrable
Safe as the houses
Along the Seven Sisters Road
As reliable as the kettle
That so frequently boiled
Every morning
Where men in training bibs
And tracksuits heavy with
Testosterone and hard graft
The sweat of today, tomorrow
Future generations
Yet to be witnessed
Were permanently infatuated
With that medicine ball
From yesteryear
That almost broke
Your school boots
Like kicking dynamite
But Joe of course
Basked brightly in
The ebb and flow, a paragon of virtue
To those who cared with
Compassion when the chips
Were down for Spurs
A rounded character
Decent geezer in
A dressing room of
Gin and tonic
That restorative boost
To demoralised spirits
Joe brought certainty
Wherever he went
Always there in the
Background noise
Assurance personified
Never flustered
Just business like
Hard but flair and fair
When John Pratt
Mopped up the wreckage
And then
Steve Perryman
Was still refining his craft
Joe brought a glow
To the tools of his trade
Self made, his own person
And then the playtime
Of his well rewarded career
Faded into the woodwork of
Those noisy tunnels
From whence Joe emerged
With the distinction of
A Saturday lord of his manor
His manor, his chivalrous domain
Guarding his front door
With lock and key
Never moved from his spot
Spurs through and through
Manager of Wimbledon
But never common
A don amongst dons
Suitably qualified for
That much maligned job
Since nobody ever seemed
To have time for
For those who once
Stood at Plough Lane
But Joe Kinnear
Football will of course
Will miss you
Unquestioningly so
Rest in peace Joe Kinnear

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