Football Poets

King Kev

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 He came by train with dreams and vivid hope
Via Doncaster and Scunthorpe he must have thought
He could cope and did without a doubt
Nowt taken out
Kevin Keegan a fireball of energy, wit
And common sense
In both the past and present tense
Yesterday King Kev relinquished his
Royalty with grace and loyalty
He died with exemplary dignity
Didn’t he?
And the Kop beckoned
But never reckoned
On the future of this human dynamo
When Liverpool launched the Alamo
On Merseyside’s swaying masses
From the youngest lads and demure of lasses
A fresh faced Yorkshireman
Carved from the finest earthenware
Defenders were always implored to beware
Keen as mustard
After meat, two veg and custard
Keegan now adored by Liverpool’s
Great and good
We knew he would
From the debut goal against Forest
He ran like a whirling dervish
But certainly never girlish
Masculine and muscular
Throughout days of mists so crepuscular
From those European nights
When Tosh, Steve Heighway danced
On the lights of Anfield’s electric stages
When Borussia Munchengladbach threatened
Through the ages
But then Kevin burst past Berti Vogts
Playing all the right notes
And Liverpool conquered Rome with
European Cup number one
Of course he won
Then after innumerable League Championships
And the heights of Hamburg
This coolest iceberg
Struck again with records vinyl
As well, clear as a bell
It seemingly never fell
Head Over Heels in Love
A song clearly above
But Keegan had established a legend
The omens had to portend
With manifold goal scoring talents
What poise and balance,
Hunting and darting towards goal
Ubiquitous, always on a roll
But then the Toon called
Armed and tooled
Newcastle Brown Ale
Without fail
Goals with unerring accuracy
Even the ones with audacity
Then promotion to the top flight
As prolific scorer offsides not even tight
Before St James Park became his own
This king though was never alone
We knew when his managerial domain
Would always remain
With Chris Waddle and Peter Beardsley
He invariably refined
Wined and dined out on yells from the bench
It could never be a wrench
Before the afternoon when Kevin Keegan
Bellowed out reprimands to Fergie
Full time had to be far too early
If Alex was ready for a verbal fight
He’d love it. He’ll see you on the night
Newcastle denied when the Premier League
Seemed wrapped up and bowed
Class showed, it had to be permanent
Certainly no remnant
But KK lost that battle
In that land of Cross Pennine
Tittle tattle
As he looked as though he had
But then a tad scary and wary
In Charity Shield warfare with
Billy Bremner that snarl and sneer
Keegan ripped off the red of Liverpool
Sent off, we were appalled
Kevin stormed off in a fit of pique
But that was unique
For Kevin Keegan was the prince of
The penalty area
Not even remotely inferior
Even brave and heroic
On BBC’s Superstars so epic
Falling by the wayside
But always scoring on the blindside
Hitting the cinder
But so explosive on the tinder
Toppling over on bikes
Yet undeterred on TV mics
Manager of England it may have lasted
A year but singularly without fear
He walked out of Wembley with head held high
Kevin Keegan, we’ll always love you
Farewell, Rest in Peace and Goodbye
Kevin Keegan, the best
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