Yowl: or a Wanderers fan remembers     

In homage of Allen Ginsberg but dedicated to Bolton Wanderers.

“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked” Allen Ginsberg, Howl.

I saw the best minds of my generation,

(namely my own and Les Smith’s)

nearly destroyed by watching Bolton Wanderers.

I grow old I grow old. I was a Wanderers fan

Well before they won their last major trophy

Which was so long ago that I still had milk teeth

It was the 1958 FA Cup final against Man United

And I can recite all the team and the reserve striker Ralph Gubbins

If you want me to.  (No one has ever so done).

White Horse Cup Final 1923

Cousin Arthur sat me on his shoulder to see my first match but

All I can remember is the smell of forty thousand Brylcreemed heads and

The fug of Woodbines in Winter. And we won, 3 -1.

Burnden Park

I have been to York and didn’t know it had Roman ruins

To Newcastle but saw no castle just St James Park

In Milan I missed the cathedral but worshipped at San Siro

John McGinley

If it wasn’t for the Wanderers why else

Would you stand in the ice at Scunthorpe

Would you shiver in a shit hole called Port Vale?

Frank Worthington

I have been to the grimy arsed ends of Yorkshire

To Huddersfield, Leeds, to Hull and Halifax and if

t’Wanderers had played in Hell I would have gone there.

Almost certainly with Les Smith who before he

Became the renowned Bolton playwright

Was best known as a Wanderers fanatic.

[artists impression]

We went to Chelsea and to Fulham

We never tried to hide our allegiance

We took some risks but the Wanderers were worth them.

After one game in London, with thirty skinhead supporters

We tried to push a broken down coach up the M1

The cops stopped us, so we fucked off to get pissed.

I’ve supported Bolton in every division they’ve been in

I‘ve never given up and I’ve never recanted

Not like the twats who switched to Stretford United.

Big Sam

Now I live too far away to see a live game

I watch the Wanderers when I can on Sky TV

When we lose a game my guts still get knotted.

Eddie Hopkinson

Fifty odd years a fan any regrets? No, none.

Except I miss going to the games with Les Smith.

I miss the booze, the dope, the danger, and Les too.

[Just in case you forget we are here - Ed]

PS and the games of course

I was born under a Wanderers scarf

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© Paul Harris 2007 © All rights reserved