1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 I hardly knew there was a game
Sandwiched on my Underground train
Chelsea & Villa was the clash
Where were the fans on the lash?
Lairy, singing, loud and brash?
Football tourists in the latest shirt
No looking over your shoulder
In case you got hurt.
Absolutely no passion and pride
Modern football? I could have cried.
Don’t get me wrong
Things had to change
But not at this cost
And extortionate price range.
I seriously pine for risking a clump
And standing in piss at a neglected dump
Not being sanatised and told to sit
In modern football I’ll never fit.
When watching ‘Football Factory’
Makes you tough
These middle class tossers
Don’t know the meaning of rough.
Now being a lad
Is sneaking in a flare
Or holding a manufactured banner
High in the air.
Despite all that
I’m off to the match
But not one Sky telly
Will ever catch.
Just enjoying the game is the goal
The grassroots that hasn’t sold it’s soul
Which is why I’m somewhere off the A3
It’s Colliers Wood United versus Croydon for me.



I went to Colliers Wood United this evening, after the Dulwich Hamlet reserve team game at Wealdstone was postponed, due to a problem with their electricity supply.

I got the tube there, from central London to Putney Bridge, then a bus.

On the tube I realised that Chelsea was at home and was appalled at how sterilised the pre-match atmosphere was, as their ground was only a couple of stops before mine.

Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/grassroots/