Newcastle preview

By acoi
October 11 2005

Would you journey down from the North? Leave the wife and kids in Gosforth? Throw a sicky from work, Lose the pay, like some nerk, And therafter not thpare the horth?

Would you put the miles on the clock?
[Would the speeding lead to the dock?]
Would it peeve you to see
That the game’s on TV,
And your mates all went with Murdoch?

As you stand alone in the sleet,
On the terrace with the team sheet,
Would you be amused,
Or just simply bemused?
Could these reserves really compete?

It’s a Friday night in the cold,
You really are feeling too old,
But then out come the teams,
Re-igniting your dreams,
And you suddenly feel quite bold.

They start like a dog from the trap,
But it’s not long before they flap,
As they fumble and fall,
And they can’t pass the ball,
You remember they’re really quite crap.

So when your captain’s red – carded,
And your scarf nearly discarded,
Hardly ten minutes gone,
It is three tries to none,
Your comments are getting unguarded.

But then reason comes to the fore,
Just like someone opening a door,
Something brightens your day:
Nothing matters till May,
And straightway it’s all one big bore.