The Ardent Armchair Die-hard Supporter

He’s the ardent, armchair, die-hard supporter
With the long suffering wife and a football-hating daughter
Whom he’s named Keegan, Paisley, Toshack or Shankly
(Though he’s never been to Anfield himself, quite frankly.)

He’s the ardent, argumentative pub cheering fan,
Who can yell at the telly and drink like a man
And his mind is obsessed with his ultimate dream –
To father a child named after the 1999 Man United treble winning team!

He’s the tough and the terrifying touch-line dad
Who shouts foul abuse when when the ref makes him mad.
One day they’ll all see that his son has the skill
To score goals for England, he’ll show them, he will!

He’s the ultimate Big Man, the football geezer
He doesn’t do cooking, save pies from the freezer,
He’s bought all the tee-shirts on away day crime
Or so he will claim, he was a legend in his time.

He’s the ardent, armchair die hard Blue.
Each day that he lives, his devotion is true.
He’ll push in at the bar if he’s standing behind me.

He’s the ultimate armchair die hard Gooner
He would have supported them so much sooner –
But he used to be Leeds when younger and thinner,
And they went to pot and he needed a winner.

He’s the ultimate replica shirt wearing bloke
See him out in the street with the like-minded folk
See them out at King’s Cross if their rivals have lost
Dishing out their abuse and showing us who’s boss.

Well you picked on the wrong woman, Ultimate Man
Go back to your armchair from where you began,
I may be a female but I know my facts.
I am a die hard and you’re just an act.

© Carol Ann Wood
October 2009

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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