In one of the forums someone asked for a chuba poem so I spent 2 hours writing one then lost the forum so posting here instead. I give you:-
AKPOMGATE
The Ballad of King Twenty Narne
You came with a name but failed to impress,
Loaned out to Greece, a right bloody mess.
Wilder said no, go train with the kids,
You're finished at Boro, we're open to bids.
Then Carrick came in, and you played in the hole,
And lo and behold, you discovered the goal.
What followed was a feat not seen in years,
You even beat Bernie Slaven, and I bet there were tears.
With 29 on your back, you were scoring for fun,
And belief kept building as we went on that run.
We fancied our chances, and believed in our luck,
But alas, Gus Hamer ended it all, the wee fat stocky f*ck.
At Ajax, you spent more time munching on cheese,
But fifty grand a week should’ve put you at ease.
Rejected by Ajax, rejected by Lille,
From Golden Boot winner to “sorry, no deal.”
Then Brum came calling, it looked all but done,
’Til Gibbo got wind and picked up the phone.
“Rob, lad, get the fans to throw in a spanner,
Tell them straight, make a f*cking banner.”
And came a banner which read like a psalm,
“COMEBACKPOM, OUR NUMBER TWENTY NARNE.”
But Ajax said, “You'll need to pay fifty grand a week,”
So Gibbo slammed the phone down, “By Lord, what f*cking cheek!”
The deal fell flat, the rumour spread fast,
Hope turned to grief, it was never gonna last.
The fans got wind and all turned on Rob,
“’Ere mate, we made a banner, you nob.”
“You’ve embarrassed us,” they cried, “what the f*ck are these dealings,
Rob and the club, you made us show our feelings
www.bbc.co.uk
