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Greyhound track that separated
us from our idols. Banging
the corrugated back of the Shed.
Boys’ turnstile. Rosettes, rattles,
hot dog sellers, trains that rumbled
behind the North Stand.
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Passion of floodlit nights.
Cheerfully obscene chants
you could hear on Match of the Day.
Ugly racist boos that greeted
our first black player’s
entry on to the field.
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Before tickets were bought in advance
the ground filled up slowly
from two hours before kick-off,
allowing anticipation to build,
noise to grow. Now it’s wam-bam,
all over far too quickly.