Aloft from the Stand

Aloft from the stand
Lays the green field for the battle planned.
Months before, the Games FA
Deemed City 'fans' to play away.
From West to East they have flocked in number
To meet and shout on this ground by the Humber.

The Grimsby crowd
Wary, but not cowed
By their foes fame and following
The braggart shouts and hollerin';
The usual sound
In a Grimsby ground!

Flanked by red-bricked roofs a'plenty
Standing guard to the town's identity.
Tides of Humber ebb and flow
Cargo ships powering to and fro'.

The teams emerge and cover the green.
Sons of Grimsby sparring and keen.
End to end movement, skill toward goal,
Mirror the seas' tidal shoal.

Then a puase in the fight,
As day turns to night
And darkens the Humber and the great North Sea,
Revealing lighted ferries of majesty.
A great orange moon, fringed by cloud
Towers low unnoticed by our crowd.

Highly-paid 'alien' from the City purse
'Gainst trawling tradition; nothing worse.
The teams enjoying adulation
For predictable recipcrocation.
Then! Alas, calamity,
As City get a penalty.

The Grimsby riposte beats wind and tide
Deigned to prevail o'er lesser side.
Posts were hit, leaving not one bit
For losing Grimsby's satisfaction.
Time to go and leave this attraction.