Never Alone …

Trials and Trails: life and times of a Walsall fan

We are the terrace tribes,

Every dog has its day,

The scarves with proud, loud voices,

The twelfth man,

The few, joined together

Whose total is so much more

Than the tally:

Making the difference;

The banterers, the chanters,

The faithful following –

On our feet, on our knees,

Going on believing even when

Belief is on the proverbial ropes;

Hoping to be champions,

To not be moved

On the roads to glory;

The noisemakers, wondering (too noisily)

If the officials can see, know the rules,

Have two parents.

We are the queues at turnstiles,

At pie-counters, at toilets, at bus stops,

Always coming back, always keeping on

Sometime-touchline wits and better managers,

Insatiable consumers of statistics and programme notes,

Shirtless in January sleet:

Because we’re on our way,

Even if, for some this’n’that reason,

We’ve got to wait, again

Just one more season.

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