Thursday, January 20, 2011

Dear Chris.

Dear Chris.

Still can’t believe you’re gone.

Keep expecting to see you in the dug-out

Whistling and pointing like a mad kettle directing traffic.

But you’re not in the dug-out.

You’ve been dug out of the dug out

By Mike Ashley and his disgraceful spade.

What was he digging for anyway?

Not coals.

Maybe Gold.

Or a grave for the team that Chris built.

Dear Chris.

A Cockney in Toon

But Loved.

Not like Dennis Wise

You were the anti-Wise

And yet so very Wise

If you see what I mean.


Speckling your black hair profoundly white.

You’d probably be played by Morgan Freeman in the film.

Dear Chris.

I bet you smelled of Old-Spice and dignity.

When you bled

You bled black and white.

(Although my TV is quite old

So maybe it was just that).

Caretaker Chris

Who is going to take care of us now?

Will Carrol be alright without his father figure?

Pardews not his real dad.

….Neither were you….

He’s probably got an actual dad…

But y’know what I mean.

Dear Chris.


And right before Christmas Chris.

And it was your Birthday too.

That does seem a bit harsh Chris.

In weeks, or months, when we see you with someone else

Probably west-Ham

We will try to be happy for you and not too jealous.

It’s hard to see a future without you Chris.

Although, we did just do Liverpool 3-1.

Which was pretty good.

Copywrite George Nicholls 2010.

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