A Huddersfield Town fan has been so chuffed with the Terriers playing in the Premier League he’s been moved to poetry.
Simon Watsham now lives in Dublin and is a 47-year-old secondary school teacher.
He grew up in Huddersfield and went to Newsome High School and Huddersfield New College. He qualified as a teacher in 1995, training through Bretton Hall College and teaching at Salendine Nook and Honley High Schools.
He said: “As I now live and work in Dublin I’m spreading the word of Huddersfield Town as much as I can amid flocks of Manchester United, Liverpool, Celtic and, dare I say it, Leeds fans. However, I can say that being promoted to the Premier League has put the town on the map and many people here now know where Huddersfield is - somewhere between Leeds and Manchester they say; an improvement on the often asked question ‘is it near London?’”
He added: “I grew up watching Town in the 1970s and 80s as they languished in the then third and fourth divisions with, of course, a few optimistic years in Division Two.
“My most cherished memories were watching at the old Leeds Road ground in the stand as Town always played towards the away Dalton Bank End first. Then, at half time, walking into the Cowshed End to watch, hopefully, Town attack regularly. The end was cramped as it wasn’t very big and when Town scored there would be a surge forward and if you weren’t careful you would get crushed against the metal crowd barriers that were randomly placed.
“Also watching the square-shouldered left back Malcolm Brown surging down the left side to whizz in a cross always got the crowd excited - almost like a modern wing-back.
“My unhappiest memories? Well, I am sure many fans of yesteryear can never forget the 10-1 humiliation by Manchester City in 1987. Technically they scored all 11 goals as Town’s was an own goal. I have never heard of such a scoreline since. In fact, that 1987-88 season was one of the worst in memory and probably on record which led inevitably to relegation to the third division and years of languishing in the lower divisions.”
So here it is, Simon’s poem.
If any Town fans think they can do better then email it in to editorial@examiner.co.uk
We Are Premier League
Huddersfield Huddersfield Huddersfield Town
For years and for decades we were forever stooped down
In the dumps, mills and factories in the bunkers
Our heads hanging low, dropped down on our hunkers.
Always looking up across the Pennine hills
At our Lancashire brethren having all the top flight thrills
At Madchester, Manchester, United and City
Liverpool Everton and now even Burnley.
Their mills and factories similar to ours
But at least on Saturdays for a couple of hours
They had joy in their hearts, pride and passion in their voices.
The Lancs and the Mancs cheering on their charges
In the country’s top flight, not having to go beyond Saddleworth on the M62
To visit Odersfelt or any other Yorkshire town too,
(Never calling at Hartshead Moor for a slart or poo)!
Our small Yorkshire voices were weak with fatigue
Singing about the time we had won the league
Three times in a row and the FA Cup and now we’re going up
Really it was time to shut up because we were no longer a force
Wallowing in the third and fourth division, really more of a farce.
But now thanks to a hairy German bloke by the name of Wagner –
No, not the dodgy mullet-haired one from the X-Factor –
David’s taken us to the promised-land, a seat at the top table, full of prestige,
And last May he sung it loud, sung it proud, “We are Premier League, say, we are Premier League!”
Now he’s gone down in Terrier folklore
With names such as Chapman, Shankly, Worthington, Cowling, Lillis, Brown and Denis Law.
Now we’re back at the top of Roy Castle Hill
And we’re blowing his trumpet coz we’re back at the top of the bill
And we’re feeling at home on this elite ride that’s at max speed,
Dedication dedication, that’s what we’re going to need.
Dedication, preparation, concentration but not forgetting the trepidation
As we fight and we hustle to avoid the dreaded drop zone
But oh boy the country has heard our voices from the valleys of the Holme to the Colne.
From Meltham, from Marsden, Fixby, Netherton and Sally Nook
We march down to Leeds Road and to our faithful we look.
From Golcar, from Bradley and Newsome we come
Pass Harold’s statue to the John Smith’s Stadium.
From Almondbury, from Mirfield, from Paddock, the more the merrier
Join our voices, all together, “Ooh to be a ... ooh to be a Terrier!”
Every match day we have fear and sweat on our Berry Brows
And where this journey will end no-one knows,
But for now we’re doing just fine, watching our blue and white stripes race for the 40 point line,
Hoping that come the season’s end we’re not last sipping our summer wine.
And even if we are, we’re Yorkshire and champion at putting a brave face on,
We can stick on a movie and be consoled with James Mason
Twenty thousand leagues under the sea and we’ve been to a few of them since ‘72-’73.
And if the thought of that sends chills down your spine, they’re multiplin’
Then put on a claret jersey and go cheer on the Giants!
Huddersfield Huddersfield Huddersfield Town
We can hold our heads up high, no need to feel down,
Come the end of May where we’ll be, that’s the intrigue
But, by George, we will always be the home of Rugby League.