Friday, August 19

An Ode To Cesc

By @buxtongooner

There you were, in red and white
Your Arsenal debut, I remember that night.
A young kid from Spain, with technique and flair,
we knew you had something - ridiculous hair.

You’d left your first love, and now you were here,
ours for the future, one to hold dear.
No more the Blaugrana, a Gooner you see ,
your home was The Arsenal, N5, Highbury.

A boy in The Premier League, the hardest of them all,
the havoc around you, you wanted the ball.
They kicked at you, hacked you, but still you stood up,
becoming a man now, no more the young pup.

Pizza for Fergie, sauce down his face,
mayhem at Old Trafford, that God awful place.
Cup final revenge, Wengers magic hat,
enjoy it, Sir Alex? Extra pepperoni with that?

You’re first on the team sheet, our number four,
Paddy’s gone to Juve, our heartbeat, our core.
But still you get better , you blossom you grow,
Europe’s best take notice, we all see it, we know.

A rainy night in Paris, the madness of mad Jens,
Sol puts us one up, we all know how it ends.
Another dream shattered as you look to the sky,
we all shared your pain, son, and we saw grown men cry.

We moved to a new home, no marble halls,
No ghosts of the past, no history in these walls.
No North Bank, no Clock End, no East and West Stand,
no ‘Peanuts! Roasted Peanuts! No Police marching band.

And then you’re the leader, the captain of the ship,
Shattered limbs around you, you soldiered on, skip.
As heads dropped around you, yours stayed up proud,
you never let us down, The Gooners, your crowd.

Your goals, I remember, San Siro, The Lane,
the ‘eleven second’ derby, laughing in pain.
A broken legged penalty, yet somehow still driven,
a misplaced backheel, forget it, you’re forgiven.

They chased you, persued you, It’s Barca DNA!
Xavi, Iniesta, Puyol and Pique.
They’re wankers! They’re bastards! Leave him alone!
Don’t worry, we get you, you want to go home.

So now you are gone, and you leave a big hole,
not just in our hearts, in this big soulless bowl.
You’re up there, you know, all the players I have seen,
I just can’t quite help but think what might have been

We sang out your name as you fought for our cause,
your effort, your steel, you earned your applause.
And now you are gone, and I think ‘what the fuck?’
But I shall just miss you, and wish you good luck.



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