Undaunting Support.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 “Go on, get stuck in,
Don’t be scared, a the likes of him?
Yer twice the bleating size, a that nippy little runt?
Try n pass the bleating thing
Not backwards, over here on the wing
Strewth! Watching this, is proper giving me the hump?”

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 “Wisha, ain’t that widder woman, got some mouth?”,
Deccy whispered tentatively, he daren’t shout,
Fearful of a vitriolic volley being aimed at him,
“Stopper, centre-half? Couldn’t stop a draught
Oi Youse! Don’t let the little runt wriggle past,
Wassamatter wiv ya, lost yer bottle? Get stuck in”.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 “Oi lady, lady, give that north and south a rest
Young fella’s, out there, are giving of their best”,
“Oh, and who the fluff might you be?”, Deccy heard her scoff
“Fella trains that team to enjoy having a kick about
Maybe try n cheer them on, if you’ve got to shout?”,
Deccy, didn’t catch her reply, though the sentence ended…off?

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Fast forward…Craven Cottage, by The Thames,
This widder woman, yes that’s right, her again
Screaming like a banshee at her team to, “Get stuck in”,
Few other choice words reverberating ageing stands
Ensued a crowd of heard it all before old hands,
Perched in The Cottage, acquired a mischievous grin.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Fulham F.C, at the time, short of an old pound note
Finding their club, a proper struggle to keep afloat
Due to a shortage of cash, decide to blood a fledgling pro
Well, the dogs abuse from the start of play
Dished out on what should have been a proper blinding day?
Caused a seasoned ex-pro, in the dug-out, serious woe.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 “Ask our kit-man to nip over and have a word
With that tongue a blazing mean looking bird”,
Tell her to zip it shut, or I’ll call a match-day cop?”,

The kit-man nervously saunters back
Ears ringing post a quite profound verbal attack,
“Sorry gaffer, only caught every other sentence, ending…off”.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Moving on…we’re at our usual rendezvous
Waiting on a mini-bus, for a soiree to Man Yoo
A joke, a smoke, a tepid tea, perched on a wall,
“Oi Declan, where are you lot, off to then?
Bit early ain’t it, for you, twenty-five to ten?
Geezer spends his day in bed, doing sweet fluff all?

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 “Hello missus, I resemble that last remark
Off to Old Trafford, on a jolly, maybe have a laugh?
There’s a spare seat, fancy a day with us on a mini bus?”,
“What? Go and watch Chelsea, are you sure?
Bleating pile of (put politely) old horse manure?
Rather be over at The Cottage, though times is tough”.

9 Leave a comment on verse 9 0 “Can’t tempt you to come savour real class?
On a pukka pitch, sporting lush green grass?
Instead of a field of mud, scarcely a sod atop?”,
Just then our mini-bus arrived…bang on time
On waving goodbye, I saw her discreetly mime,
Two fingers in the air, sentences ending…off.

10 Leave a comment on verse 10 0 Time rolled on as time tends to do
Though Deccy n me, didn’t sit in the same pew
Every so often after, the game, we’d arrange a meet
I’m listening to the scores one day indoors
The phone rings, an excited Deccy roar’s,
“Switch on the telly, quick, see them just won the league?”

11 Leave a comment on verse 11 0 There in the middle of a wildly exuberant shot
Dear reader I kid you not?
Stood a face I knew, but whose whereabouts I didn’t know?
The slated centre half, beside the widder woman, (his mum!)
Couldn’t control her rabid expletive ridden tongue?
On a council playing field, or Craven Cottage, years ago.

12 Leave a comment on verse 12 0 Those who crack on regardless, and succeed
To reap rewards, are deemed fortunate indeed
More so from a dodgy start, than a bestowed toff?
After all, isn’t there something admirable to savour?
About a fella being driven, albeit by a gobby mater?
Ain’t afraid of abruptly ending her sentences…off?

13 Leave a comment on verse 13 0 Peace.

14 Leave a comment on verse 14 0 Stay safe, come what may, and have a good day.


Having not been over to Craven Cottage for some time, if memory serves me well, Craven Cottage is the name of the Fulham ground. While The Cottage was/is a quirky grand-stand, housing dressing rooms underneath. On the opposite side of the pitch from the River Thames. Which runs along t’other. Tales of balls being hoofed out in to the river, to waste time, near the end of a closely fought match. Would need to be confirmed by a clued-up Fulham fan. As would the lay-out of their absolutely blinding, trapped in a time warp, stadium. Which I believe, is being re-developed at the moment? North n South. rhyming slang for mouth.

Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/undaunted-support/