Once upon a terraced time

Once upon a terraced time,
The history books would have us know,
When football was for working men,
And suited gents just didn’t go,
The game was ruled by those who cared,
And not the monied, corporate hand,
When it was quite alright to sing,
And not against the rules to stand.

Once upon a terraced time
When shirts were for the men who played,
And if the match was dull and drab,
Still on those terraces we stayed
To cheer until the bitter end
No fourth official’s time to add
The goals were ours, and ours alone,
No TV cameras to be had.

Once upon a terraced time,
When men made cars and mined for coal,
Before the kick off times were changed
Before our football sold its soul,
The ordinary folk could cheer
And cloth capped men felt rich and proud
To see their team and drink their beer
Amongst their fellows in the crowd.

We cannot have our terraced time
The camera’s gaze is here to stay,
But we can fight for football’s soul
And for the right to see them play.
You knock us down but we’ll be back
We will not let you kill our sport,
We will re-claim what once was ours,
For true supporters can’t be bought.

© Carol Ann Wood
December 2004

Index of Posts:

My bespoke poetry service, Diverse Verse
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Follow Carol Ann Wood on Twitter
NOT Just Saying: Carol’s comments on feminism, fashion, food and folly
Only in Erinsborough Carol Ann’s fun look at the lives and loves of the characters from the Australian soapNeighbours

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