Not my favourite part of the game, bound up as it sometimes is in the kind of rivalry and violence that’s dogged the British game. But in looking around for footballing siblings yesterday, I came across this, which I thought was quite clever in its way:
(sung to the tune of David Bowie’s ‘Rebel Rebel’): ‘Neville Neville, they’re in defence, Neville Neville , their future’s immense. Neville Neville , they ain’t half bad, Neville Neville, the name of their dad.’
Out of date now. My personal favourite, though, is Scottish:
Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,
the little Lord Jesus stood up and he said…
WE HATE HIBEES AND WE HATE HIBEES, WE HATE HIBEES AND WE HATE HIBEES, WE ARE THE HIBEE HATERS…
Of course he did.