Footie Hooligan
We were travelling back from the Comminty Shield match at Wembley on the tube. In the same carriage were a group of about 6 Liverpool fans chanting and banging the sides of the carriage. Although not physically aggressive it certainly made you feel uncomfortable. These guys were mainly middle aged. One of them broke off the chanting to talk to a couple of Americans. Although still slightly pissed it was clear that he was a well travelled and educated individual. This inspired today’s poem.
Footie Hooligan
Monday morning dressed in a suit
A businessman of high repute
A normal life it would appear
That was until ten pints of beer
And Saturdays with his fellow fanatics
Morphing manically, lary lunatics
Footie badge tattooed on calf
Pretty pissed before the second half
Chanting songs full of hatred and spite
Fists at the ready for another fight
Anger distorts his chiselled features
Told to sit down by the stadium speakers
Blood red hot not thinking clearly
Lays one on the steward that cost him dearly
A night in the cell to sober up alone
Then back to his wife in his suburban home!
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