Conspiracy Afoot?

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 At two score a pop, me derriere’s slot,*
Is not what a fan would call cheap
But what’s troubling me lately
Is not Sheva’s straight b’s
It’s just what to do with me feet?

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 When watching the game, I’m feeling me frame,
Precariously placed at an angle
Where me posture is leaning toward where its at,
Whilst me feet are all twisted and mangled

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Me knees poke in the bloke, sat next to me’s space
As I shift to fit them under me chin
Have they put in a row, without letting me know,
Of new seats, to squeeze more of us in?

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 To me it seems strange, I’ll be needing explained,
Just what’s going on with my seat
Or else I’ll be heading, for the exit sign yelling
‘I’m not concerned about score, be it win or a draw
But what worry’s me most is these feet’!



Has Abramovitch been getting idea’s from Ryanair on how to squeeze more punters in to the ground, I can’t have got taller during the season, all of a sudden, can I?

I’ve to sit with me knees almost in the other blokes space, otherwise me feet don’t touch the floor! I don’t remember having to do that before?

It’s just that all this seems to coincide with all the talk of us moving up the road to Earls Court, drying up! So in me wisdom I’ve put two and two together, to make five as usual! Peace kev…
*two score is slang for forty.

PS Little Feet have Ver T’Go…from an equally suashed Editor.(Crispin)..Kev.. you wanna be up in the last row at the top of the East Stand..which is where Paul and i sat v Pompey..no place for vertigo.or long legs..unless you’re a spider that is…

Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/conspiracy-afoot/