Flowers Of Scotland
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Little man, big impact – predator, star of his day;
A stylist, a lethal finisher. Goals were his trademark,
From Newcastle to Chelsea, before and after he trod
A singular path. But like so many, his vices were
There – all the time – to bring him down, to prove
His undoing. Troubles followed him, he followed
Them. And the end came sweetly, under the wheels
Of a train. Release, at the unltimate price…a genius
In his prime, wee Hughie; a hero of the dark blues.
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Again, the maestro on a fitba’ field; Slim Jim, not
So slim in later years but peerless at Rangers’ stately
Home. Keepie uppie King, the ball at his feet – to
Control and influence at will. And he knew it, as well.
The presence, the charisma, the talent to turn it on;
At Wembley – twice – he lairded it over the English,
Master of his domain, avenging Bannockburn and
Culloden. Still, the drink took its’ toll; made his Final
Pass and all Glasgow united -Simply the best, JB.
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Jinky, Jinky on the wing – a red head in green
And white hoops; to dazzle, deceive and delight
On European nights under the Parkhead lights –
A Best of the north, they said. Creator supreme,
Inside right, inside out; perfect balance, that
Quizzical expression, give nothing away to your
Opponent – least of all, the ball. It’s yours to hold,
To use with deadly ease. A Lisbon Lion, the Bhoys’
Greatest ever, they dubbed him – gone too soon at 61.
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Bremner – a born leader, dynamism personified
In the Leeds’ midfield, for year on year on year.
Passion for the cause, sometimes a little too much;
But never wanting in the name of club or country.
Captaincy came naturally to this firebrand talent,
Revies’ general on the bittersweet battlefields; wiry,
Pugnatious, a fighter; fists clenched. Winning was
the only thing, winning was everything; an angelic
Assassin, a feisty spirit, but he could also play a bit, too.
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