Until thirteen, disliked Footee!
Perhaps because I played so bad.
Other sports too, the Egg ‘n’ Spoon,
Or weird game played with ball and bat…
Came Pubertee, what did I see?
A bunch of blokes chasing a ball…
‘Most overnight, I saw the Light,
And was converted like Saint Paul!
Became a Fan, not yet a Man,
But still no longer wholly Boy…
Embraced the Game, one Choice remained,
Among all Teams, which to support?
Racked hard my brains, but made no gains,
Trying to sort wheat from the chaff.
So many Strips, so many hues,
Who to root for? I had no clue!
Good pal had I, named Thomson Si,
Who hailed from somewhere up North-West…
From Merseyside, to be precise,
He said: “The TOFFEES are the Best!”
COYB! or Grand Old Team,
He’d sing or chant with so much zest.
Gave me some booze, to get me sloshed,
By then my brain was fully washed!
And one more thing – me Gran, darling,
Grew up in Bootle, Merseyside.
Three Bros had she, all Toffs-Crazee,
So I plumped for the Mersey’s Pride!
Dai D in goal, Big Bob up front,
And in the dugout Bingham Bill.
Shirts Royal Blue, Shorts Persil White,
What could I do? Love at first sight!
Time its course ran…Boy morphed to Man,
But EVERTON have never gone!
Seen Ups ‘n’ Downs, Swings, Roundabouts,
I just can’t leave that Team alone!
Wilson or Heath, then Mrs T,
John Major, Blair or Gordon Brown.
Flyin’ up high, or steep nose-dives,
Ain’t never left that Team alone!
We’ve been up Top, won League and Cup,
And, natch’, have flirted with The Drop.
Through thick ‘n’ thin, I’ve stuck with them,
Have always loved The Toffeemen!
Now here I am, Six Decade Man,
Standing almost at Death’s threshold.
Once more bellow “NSNO”!
Won’t never leave that Team alone…
Denys E. W. Jones