I saw a tweet by Mansfield Town from their game at Exeter today, and was inspired to write this about Jimmy Spencer, who is at Field Mill this season. I hope they don’t mind me nicking their photo for my base.
His yellow shirt bleeds into blue,
As modern shirts are wont to do,
It doesn’t matter much to you,
It matters less to me.
For I am taken far away,
When I see Jimmy Spencer play,
Another time, another day,
Another life as well.
A classic striker in that mould,
Who isn’t measured just on goals,
But bring much more we’re told,
To every single game.
With plain black boots and rolled up socks,
Through bullet headers, trips and knocks,
And all from in the six yard box,
Or better anyway.
The last, then, of a noble thread,
Replaced by pace or tricks instead,
But I’ve got time for his old head,
Still time for Jimmy Spencer.