“Ooh, Clapton Ultras!”

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 People talk about god-forsaken holes
Grounds we suffer to witness a few goals.
Why am I in Mile End
On a Wednesday night?
A Gordon Brasted Trophy game
I can’t be that bright.
Method to my madness
That’s for sure
It’s the famous Clapton Ultras
That’s the lure.
Not sure how old school
Cockney they really are
Pronouncing their aitches
But still a star.
Untold songs
And occasional flares
Possibly not the done thing
But then who cares?
Also anti fascist
And proud of the fact
The players all love it
See how they react!
Is this really the Essex Senior League
With their Ultras Anti-Fascista
Football blitzkrieg!
Blowing away all the ‘rules’
To the bewilderment
Of terrace old schools.
Here to stay or flash in the pan?
At the moment talk of the land.
So what if I can’t fathom them out
They’re having a party
And know how to shout.
Breathing life ito the ‘Old Spotted Dog’
While knocking back that cheap Polski grog!



(Last Wednesday I went to Tower Hamlets v. Clapton. The attraction was not the game , or venue, but the away fans!)

Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/ooh-clapton-ultras/