Thirty Six Years On

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Wolves in white shirts, Norwich in red – surely
A mistake my young mind thought…but no, it’s
The Cup said Dad; both teams change when the
Colours clash. A quirky, democratic notion from
Those far-off days. We stood down the front of
The North Bank, as we always did. Me on my
Home-made stand, resting on the crush barrier.
When the teams emerged, we’d have been there
Over an hour already; you had to be keen to get
A good place. Dull overhead, lights glinting in
The January air – we mauled the Canaries 5 – 1
I recall, their goalie named Keelan a forlorn fella
By the end; served him right for wearing tracksuit
Bottoms. A Bernard Shaw blaster at our end and
Ken Hibbitt’s flicked diving header were the pick
Of the bunch. So we went home happy, after my
First Third round match. Listen to Sports Report for
The results; any giant-killings ? But this was the day
Of Ibrox – a disaster eclipsing all else. So it stays with
You, every year, when the Cup’s big moment comes.

Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/thirty-six-years-on/