Football Poets

It’s surely the end of the line for the Hammers.

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 So that’s the end of the line
Or seemingly so
For those plucky yet
Now heavily defeated
West Ham United
We’re almost in
Obituary territory
For your claret and blue
East Enders
West Ham now surely
Condemned to the
Murky waters of the lower leagues
Out on the canvas
Poleaxed with a brutal
Upper cut and
Now Championship bound
Defeatist talk
But the lethal blow
Has been landed
By the Bees of Brentford
All that remains
Are those historical
Champagne memories
In Prague
When for one balmy night
At the beginning of June
Bowen hit the target
With 180
And West Ham had won
The caravan destined
For London council estates
Euro Conference winners
Three darts and the Irons
Had nailed a European trophy
Oh yes we did you know
But now classical moments
Have now been reduced
To ashes and tatters
Lopetegui and Potter
Fans will cry were
As useless as a chocolate teapot
But decent men
Then it all got very
Toxic and explosive
Brady and Sullivan
Dug their heels in
With defiance and
Brave fighting talk
And words of comfort
But unless Spurs
Can use the get out of jail
Card of reprieve
Dark curtains will
Descend in Stratford
For Spurs will see a
Huge ray of hope
At Villa tomorrow
It does look so bleak
That even Spurs must be
Giggling in their size 10s
Will the Premier League
Miss those days of wine and roses
When FA Cups and Euro trophies
Once came in quick succession?
But now we are back
From whence we came
Thames Ironworks beaten
Those fuming foundries
Of a once booming industry
Harry Redknapp, Bobby Moore,
Sir Geoff Hurst, Sir Trev of course
Billy Bonds, Pat Holland
Probably sobbing into their Saturday tea
Because the West Ham
Of the present day
Should have left a legacy
That free flowing template
The West Ham way
But sadly just crumbled into
The dust and failed again
And again
Sir Alex you were
Probably right
There was nothing definitive
To argue his point
The Hammers way was just
An urban myth,
An abstract point
So relegation beckons
For your hapless Hammers
It can only be a
A matter of time
Relegation for your
Happy Hammers
It’s always been
Your harsh reality
For some time
Since football was
Never a game of sentiment
And unless something
Out of the ordinary
Comes to their rescue
Farewell West Ham
To the Premier League
Lincoln must be licking their lips
Next season
The trapdoor is creaking open
Ominously but clearly
Ready to drop
For West Ham once again
And yet
Come on you Irons

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