The whistle blew –the game began
And Poly slid right down the pan
Their centre back was big- a whopper
Three minutes gone he came a cropper
He passed the ball back in a hurry
Never even saw Sam Murray
The die was cast
Our terms were set
The ball was nestling in their net

The Army jumped and sang and shouted
The Poly boys were truly routed
They couldn’t even get the ball
The writing, already, on the wall

The second half saw goals galore
We made it five by scoring four
The crowd ran on -the ref rebuked
Joe Ivory tripped and nearly puked

I stood and gaped as Muzza scored
Josh Tutt got two -- Oh my Lord
Then JJ hit them on the break
And that was icing on the cake

The squad was strong and stuck together
Training hard and chasing leather
At last Fozzie got his dues
The winners?
Wickham’s Mighty Blues.