One of our regular contributors sent this in with a note explaining 'It's hardly Wordsworth. It's hardly poetry come to that, but I was so shocked by the news of Doc's departure that I was moved to verse.' Ja vol, Graham, zat is true, you have been moved to verse, but not much verse (ha! ha!) (Online Ed., resorting to a stupid accent yet again for a crass, contrived and deeply unfunny joke.).
ODE to DOC (and absent friends)
So Doc you've gone, like so many others We'll miss you now; we were your brothers Behind the goal on which you'd descend Ball at your feet, either wing was your friend. Swerving right, then feinting left And leaving them all as away you swept At first it was Cowps, the God of men On your crosses he would depend. Now it's Jabber who gets it done Or flicks it back for you to score one Sometimes it was three like at Buxton one day Or Gateshead at home, or Colwyn Bay. Brought to us by that man of vision Who gave us so much and then was stricken You played for Ray Wilkie and it was so great You gave us belief, not resigned to our fate. But now you've all gone and can't be replaced All those we cheered on that great day Kenny G, Cowps, Farrell and Ferris too Higgins, McDonnell, Kenny Lowe and you. Skiv and Procky haven't gone yet But who can tell what might happen next? They play you in midfield, it's not your best For on the wings you really impress. You played your heart out for Ray on the wing With a ball at your feet you'd make it sing But since that sad day when he passed away We've lost inspiration, it's all gone astray. So Barry has tempted you and South you go To link up again with great Kenny Lowe We wish you luck and hope you return With Kenny and Cowps to save us again. Issue 019 - April 1994