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.
Wisdom
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.
Fired.
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.
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