Watching Hyde United with my Dad and his Dad
in the open, opposite the seating, I never asked
what it was that they were thinking
They’d applaud if Hyde scored, or came close,
and sigh if the goal came from our opponents
but whatever happened
on the pitch felt manageable,
within the realm of acceptable emotion
Usually, it was bitter cold
I saw patterns
evolving, the constant realignment
of positions as play developed, moved
one way and then the other. We were close
enough to the action to smell the embrocation
footballers wore against the weather
Winter Green (don’t put it near your genitals)
I doubt it was unique or clever,
what it was that they were thinking,
Dad and Grandad. Wilf and Norman
But I never asked them. I should have
They might have warned me
I learnt the painful way
about Winter Green
Steven Taylor
.