Omar Salgado
Like butter through a hot knife
In 'Gado we trust

Oops!

Long Tan's misfortune

Not given time to playing

Please let him go.......thanks

Parental advisory.

There once was a team from Portlandia.
Whose fans could not have been randyer.
When the Caps came to town.
The girls all went down.
I don't think it was just Piltdownman do you?

Oh Barry Robson

is here, Boxall has been cut

Bocanegra who knows?

It's fifteen minutes to kick off time
I'm in my seat, Block 109
I look around, I hear the noise
see lots of fathers with their boys.

The kids look happy, a marvelous sight
McNasty's burgers they all bite
they're all excited thats for sure
and with their dads they feel secure.

Although the surroundings have now all changed
the children's feelings are just the same
the middle classes have now arrived
but things were different for a sixties child.

I then look out across the Kop
to the right hand corner at the top
where up until the age of ten
I served my time in the old 'boys pen'.

For those of you who do not know
it was a place for kids to go
metal bars like a kind of cage
where little kopites came of age.

I remember the first time I went inside
Liverpool v Chelsea '65
a star struck boy who stood
amazed football was all we had those days.

You'd always see some kids from school
they came from all over Liverpool
little scousers every week
from Kirkby town right up to Speke.

The Kop was packed out in those days
but at half time, dad found a way
to fight his way through all the crowd
and feed his boy, he did me proud.

An 'Eccles cake' a sausage roll
a drink of Coke, god bless his soul
between the bars he'd pass it through
like feeding monkeys at the zoo.

And through those bars we used to stare
at all the kopites standing there
oh how we'd long to stand with them
and make that step from boys to men.

Some kids escaped now and again
it was a pretty dangerous game
it filled the kopites full of laughter
to see kids dangling from the rafters.

It had its own 'soprano' choir
you couldn't sing 'walk on' much higher
inside those bars kids sang with pride
but it sounded so funny from the other side.

When the match was over at 4.45
your dad would pick you up outside
dozens of kids , some big some small
stood opposite the pen by the old brick wall.

But that was how it was those days
no greedy players, no corporate ways
they recognized us 'opite cubs'
we were the future of the club.

Then at last it came my time
to leave this little world behind
I was at an age when every lad
didnt want to go the match with dad.

And so I passed out to the kop
that love affair has never stopped
I take my son to the occasional game
but this 'dad and lad' thing's not the same.

You never see young lads no more
who go the match in three's and fours
this city's children rue the day
when they took the old boys pen away.

The money men arrived in town
and in their wisdom pulled it down
they called it 'progress' but we read their thoughts
who needs children when adults pay more.

I now drift back to present day
I take my seat, watch the redmen play
a diehard red , Im the real McCoy
because I was groomed from a little boy.

That golden era has now passed by
but we all have memories you cannot buy
from apprentice kopites, now middle aged men
who served their time in the old boys pen.

© Dave Kirby 2001

There once was a gaffer named Mariner
At TO he was the inheritor
Had a DP named Jules
And a jailbird in Sools
But relegation t'was not his derringer.

Apologies to Coleridge http://poetry.eserver.org/ancient-mariner.html

It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
(Just like his ‘keepers saving shots)
“Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?”

He is an ancient Mariner
And he once coached the TFC
“Why did you stop me Paul?” I ask
“Listen please!” begs he

The march is on, from Doolins warm
The chanting’s down the street
“Let me go” I says to him
“I’ve got the drum, they need me to keep the beat”

He held me with his glittering eye
He had me standing still,
And listened like a three years' child:
Paul Mariner had my will.

“It once was great, it seemed so good
We had so many full houses
A waiting list for Seasons’ Tickets
Now we play like big girls’ blouses”

“What happened Paul?” I asked of him
“Why the change of fortune ?
Maybe you could grow a beard
Or see a plastic surgeon ?”

“It was a deal made with him
The devil down below
To win the V Cup every year
But he wanted quid pro quo”

“It was back in 2009
The Cup had to be kept from the ‘Caps
MSLE dealt with the devil
But the contract had some traps”

“V-Cups V-Cups ‘most every year
Yet ne’er a league game won
This was the deal we made with him
Anselmi would have his fun”

“Voyageurs’, Amway, Nutrilite
Call it as you might
TFC would win ‘most every year
No matter that our team was shite”

“At first we could not believe the score
Montreal just surrendered
6-1 can you believe our luck ?
Yet no Dos Santos resignation tendered!”

“2011 – the Caps were sure to win
The prospect was quite frightening
In stepped our friend at half time
And arranged some rain and lightning.”

“Now my team are drunks,
They’re stuck in jail
The gate receipts are low,
We’ve run out of allocation funds, we can’t afford the bail”

The price of the deal it turns out
Was to be paid for generations
A super re-entry auxiliary draft-pick
And future considerations

“That consideration deadful I inherited, Destined to walk this land
Stopping one in every three
To tell them of this sinful deal
And the Impact it had on me.”

His tale over. His eyes were sad
At last he let me go
I had missed the first two Mattocks’ goals
But at least now we know

Why we’ll never win the cup
And why TFC are crap
And that’s the tale of Paul Mariner
Can’t help but pity the chap.

Sometimes ticking the +1 box just doesn't cut it. ^ this.

Boxing_Day_Massacre said:

Didn't put this in the songs thread because this is Jay's song and should remain as such. Credit to whoever it was (Johnny Monster ?) who tweeted the "Cannonball" joke last night.

Joe Cannon's magic
He wears some magic shorts
And when he bends right over we see they're shorter than they ought
He doesn't sing soprano
But sometimes if he falls
He shorts may get a little tight and show his Cannonballs

Just watched the match. Atta boy Joe, way to keep things loose?

There once was a gaffer named Martin,
Whose players shipped goals by the carton.
So Rennie said, "Son,
If they bag more than one,
I'll put Nanchoff in for some fartin'."

That nails it. Cheers, Boxing Day.