The Match

Match day is here, scarf around your wrist Dad takes his lad the games never missed Sea of red winds its way down the lane Singing the songs that announce the game The turnstiles click as they hurry inside Narrow passages opening out wide The green of the pitch is sharp on the eyes Hot Chocolate in hand and the promise of pies The team emerge from the tunnel to cheers Hands waving scarves and pints of beer The whistle blows and the match begins Each supporter hopes it’s their team that wins A flying tackle, a quick taken free kick The headers won, home fans feel sick More running and shouting from the team in Red 90 minutes are up and they are still ahead The ref calls the game, and red fans cheer The blues are disheartened, it was near. 1 – 0 to us, we are top of the league Billy is smiling his dad is relieved