He did nothing. The boy did nothing
When he played for us. Missed open
Goals – when he got near to goal. And
That wasn’t very often.
Body language said he didn’t care less,
But he got paid fortunes for it. Just who
Were the mugs ? But didn’t we give him
Some stick. Deserved.
He didn’t like us, we didn’t like him.
Mutual loathing, nasty piece of work
He was – not our kind of player at all.
Good riddance; Waster.
Now he’s back, playing for Them Lot,
Of all teams. And of course he’ll get so
Abused; Judas, scum, still far worse as
The crowd scent blood.
But there’s no justice, no happy ending –
And the inevitable happens. Final minute,
A hopeful punt down field. He latches on
And scores the winner.