I am not your modern day footballer
who collects his wages in a hay loader
from the Premier League pay loader;
aided by Sky TV and now BT money bag dream makers;
so happy to pay ‘the fakers and the takers’ on and off the field.
and so happy to take hard earned brass from the working class.
I’m just an ordinary fan;
“I am what I am”.
What happened to the working man’s game?
hijacked by those who just seek money and fame,
which just isn’t funny;
to those who follow the game,
it’s a crying shame,
to forget your roots like that!
No I’m no trend setter,
no go getter,
no position seeker,
no power climber.
no football cheater
no racist banter
no foul mouthed ranter
no ‘prima donna’.
I’m no crowd pleaser just a word teaser,
no people pleaser, who’s trying to fool ya.
Just a football fan, that’s who I am.
Perhaps a word rhymer,
a letter writer,
a campaign fighter,
maybe a ‘fire starter’,
or a motivator.
The power is in the written word; mightier than all the chairmen of the board.
No streets here paved with football gold;
paid for by the fans, I’m told;
even the poor families and their grandads and grans.
No money to line my pockets,
no greedy agents
with slimy tricks,
no hangers on,
no football politics;
just an ordinary fan.
So please don’t exploit me!
by Simon Icke, copyright 2013 UK. Author of Touchline Shouting, The Sound of Children’s Feet, Young versus Old in Irwell Road and other Football poems: See http://www.footballpoets.org