Stamford Bridge. West London. 1964.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Crossing
Live railway tracks
Scurrying kids
Would bunk in for free
To a match
At The Bridge.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Envious and frightened,
Admiring their guile
Our bunk in comprised
Two kids
Squeezing through
On a click of the turnstile.



The first time I witnessed this happening, it scared the living daylights out of me, never had the bottle for it (or the stupidity) but I know loads of kids what did.

I much preferred the subtle way of two of you going through on one click of the turnstile and slipping the operator something.

Some of the turnstile operators over at The Bridge were “at it” anyway, and in those days were glad of the extra few bob going straight in to their back pockets, no questions asked like.

Go well and be lucky.



Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/stamford-bridge-west-london-1964/