So in honor of Burns Night & Arsenal's rise to the top, here's what may be the 1st in an new annual tradition... my Burns style poem for the weekend.
Now, if wee Rabbie Burns were still agood
Do’na think that he would be a Chelsea man
For fookin’ fruit & prancin’ doon the road
Is not the way for our fair Burnsie, ken?
And whoot of auld sir Alex’ red Manure?
(He wouldna be a Yankees fan me’thinks.)
Young Rab would ratha cheer the worker, sure,
Than fancy big buck squads with big buck stinks.
Take Merseyside and shove it up yer arse!
Not since the four fair Beatles was it plain.
He’d never been nor would he be a Scouse.
He’d floosh the Reds, wi’ shite, right down the drain.
He’d scoff at Villain ‘tenders to tha crown
Blue Cit’zens, too, wee Rabbie would na take.
Nor lily-white; tha Hotspur, he’d put down.
North London’s got but one fer foock’es sake.
Perhaps the Ayr United or the Killie
Would scratch his home town need for home town sport.
Fair Rabbie was no silly billy Gillie,
He wouldna’ take no silly billy court.
Not Hearts nor Hibs nor Hoops would be his team.
And Rangers only range for gearlie boys.
Though Scotland’s squads would be for him it seems,
They play a pretty plot with ugly noise.
He’d be a true red Gooner don’t ya ken?
Up the Ars’nal; top the table strive.
A club wi’ whom th’hard workin’ lass and men
Can drink and sing and fight and be alive!