Property of RKB






© Robbie Kennedy Bennett



Bennett You're Offside © Robbie Kennedy Bennett












Six Loud Scotsmen © Robbie Kennedy Bennett












© Robbie Kennedy Bennett


Property of RKB

In the spring of 2007 work started on erecting a perimeter fence around the Dixon Street playing fields.
By the summer it was complete,
Too late to save a boy who's gone,
Built where my Adidas Santiago shone.



My Adidas Santiago © Robbie Kennedy Bennett








Yours truly scoring a goal for the Rovers

I ONCE WAS A SEDGLEY ROVER ©
by Robbie Kennedy Bennett


Old team photos remind me of the day,
When I was younger and able to play.
All of the memories and friends that I made,
Wherever I chose to ply my trade.
Now it's all gone and it's over,
I once was a Sedgley Rover.
A name of respectable football recognition,
With history, style and tradition.

I made my home debut on the Tenscore,
Admiring the Staffordshire, Shropshire view.
The old colliery land of Baggeridge,
Wombourne and Himley too.
The local amateur football scene was fantastic,
Socks around ankles,
Or tied up with tape or elastic.
This Black Country town and its people,
The pitch in the shadow of All Saints steeple.
This all made me proud to pull over,
The shirt of a Sedgley Rover.

Boarding the coach in the Bull Ring,
Saturday's here there's a venue to find.
The Rovers set off from Sedgley,
Leaving the height of the Beacon behind.
The White Horse pub for Tuesday meetings.
The Station Hotel in Dudley,
Presentation awards and greetings.

Harry Love, Sidney Partridge and Charlie Hale,
Gave me fond memories,
And I can still tell a tale.
About games that we won or we lost,
A referee and two captains
Without a coin to be tossed.
And now it's all gone and it's over,
I once was a Sedgley Rover.




Story and poem printed in the BLACK COUNTRY BUGLE.
www.blackcountrybugle.co.uk/blackcountrybugle-sport/displayarticle.asp?id=135485

I Once Was A Sedgley Rover © Robbie Kennedy Bennett













THE ROWLEY NAME ©
by Robbie Kennedy Bennett

In my line is the Rowley name,
Goal scoring records and football fame.
War torn interrupted professional careers,
Once more I reflect on bygone years.
My Grandad was a Rowley too,
Been paid to play if he wanted to.
But Nan she always knew the score,
Keep the bad wolf from our door.
A cartilage injury I also heard,
Was that the reason and not Nan's strong word.
So cousin George chose not to play the game,
Jack and Arthur progressed to football fame.
When he was about age sixty-seven,
I would then be around eleven.
We were kicking a ball on a Somerset beach,
My modern skills I tried to teach.
But he had such a delicate touch,
That impressed I can't describe how much.
I forgot my Grandad was a Rowley too,
Been paid to play if he wanted to.
I noticed how soon he selected his pass,
On a Somerset beach not on a field of grass.
One day when I was just sixteen,
I played right back in a proYouth Team.
He came to Stafford to see me play,
I remember it well, except the score that day.
Come the time about twenty-two,
I knew it all like young men do.
He was watching me play there on the line,
I think that day I was number nine.
I can't recall another game,
After that match that my Grandad came.
I've never forgot he was a Rowley too,
Been paid to play if he wanted to.
Although time fades and less they preach,
I saw it all on a Somerset beach.
Goal scoring records and football fame.
The highly reputable Rowley name.


Story Behind The Poem

On the day my story about walking part of the Fife Coastal Path had been printed in the Black Country Bugle. I soon had complimentary messages about the story and poem. When finding picture poems to send out to relevant people I found a part extract of the poem 'I Should Have Played For Ladybank Violet' printed on a photo when I was running in Bridgnorth. When looking at the photo that was taken in the early 1980's I remembered that my Grandad was also there standing behind whoever took the photo. We have a picture of him taken the other way looking immaculate as usual. At that moment I brought together both of my sporting family lines.


The Rowley Name © Robbie Kennedy Bennett








© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett










Property of RKB

HA' WAY THE LADS ©
by Robbie Kennedy Bennett 2004

The April wind blew strong
From the north east sea,
Even though that breeze blew hard
The sun shone down on me.

Ha'way the lads he shouted
And the breeze blew harder still,
Ha'way the lads he shouted
This man upon the hill.

The April wind blew stronger
As I heard his north east call,
Ha'way the lads he shouted
To the boys who kicked the ball.

And he still calls out behind me
In the wind up by that coast,
This Sunderland voice shouts loudly
For the team he loves the most.

The sky grew heavy quickly
And soon the rain did fall,
Ha'way the lads he shouted
To the boys who kicked the ball.

These lads were young and wiry
They could hardly fill their kit,
The stripes were heavy and sodden
Their teeth were tightly grit.

Yes the sky grew heavy quickly
Even though the sun still shone,
In the strange north eastern weather
His call he carried on.

Ha'way the lads he shouted
Ha'way to one and all,
Ha'way the lads he shouted
To the boys who kicked the ball.


Ha' Way The Lads © Robbie Kennedy Bennett










CHELSEA DAYS OF DOCHERTY ©
by Robbie Kennedy Bennett

Chelsea days of Docherty,
A team of skill and flair.
This silk like precious time,
In their day were so divine.
Chelsea days of Docherty,
Made many a shining star.
In folk law days,
Supporter's praise,
How great they are.
Chelsea days of Docherty,
Were streets ahead by many a mile.
His stern like type of characters played
A flamboyant exuberant style.
The Chelsea side in Dochertys' day,
Got the ball down and 'boy' could they play.
This present time seems so unreal,
They were made of British steel.


Chelsea Days of Docherty © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

ADDITIONAL INFO
I wrote this poem the day before I was due to see the 'Doc' as a guest speaker.
He spoke affectionately of the young team he had assembled at Stamford Bridge.
He then went on to name many players.
It was noticeable that his voice became stronger with the inner pride he had for them.
He quoted 'it was a special time in my managerial career'.










The Albion, Conwy, Wales.
Property of RKB

THE KING IS IN THE CHIP SHOP ©
by Robbie Kennedy Bennett

I had a mate who was a Baggies fan
Who was hungry for his tea,
So he stopped at a shop for fish and chips
As his wife sat waiting patiently.

He opened the door on the driver's side,
'You'd never guess who I saw inside'.
Startled she was by his question then,
All of a sudden he spoke again.

'The King is in the chip shop',
He said excitedly,
'The King is in the chip shop',
'He was in the queue with me'.

Well it couldn't be Elvis Presley
From Memphis Tennessee,
If the King is in the chip shop?
Who then could it be?

What could've happened there inside?
As she sat in the seat on the passenger side.
She had a confusing thought,
His life did change in a moment
Fish and chips were bought.

She asked him ' will you please calm down'
As he fumbled for the key to start their car,
'If the King is in the chip shop'
'Explain how excited that you are'.

All was answered in a flash
Everything was plain to see,
And it wasn't Elvis Presley
From Memphis Tennessee,

The King was in the chip shop
Ordering his tea,
'Jeff Astle was in the chip shop' he said
'He stood in a queue with me'.


The King Is In The Chip Shop © Robbie Kennedy Bennett






Property of RKB


Scotland v England
Hampden Park Glasgow
1 April 1933
Attendance 134,710

With eight minutes to go Jimmy McGrory of Scotland blasted the winning goal past Hibbs the England goalkeeper to take Scotland into a 2-1 lead.

If the terraces of Hampden Park had been roofed then, the noise of jubilant Scot’s would have lifted them off.

Quote from Bob McPhail who played and passed the ball to Jimmy McGrory that day, ‘If I knew nothing about the ‘Hampden Roar’ before that moment, I certainly felt the full force of it right there and then’. ‘The noise from the crowd must have broken every window within a mile radius’.

The line in my poem ‘I’ve seen the written word’ refers to the book
HEROES ARE FOREVER, The Life and Times of Celtic Legend Jimmy McGory by John Cairney.

McGory's record in first class games is 550 goals in 547 games.



McGrory Scored And Hampden Roared © Robbie Kennedy Bennett










Property of RKB

THE SUMMER OF 1966 ©
by Robbie Kennedy Bennett

England were prepared upon the day,
Germany came to Wembley to take the Jules Rimet trophy away.
Gordon Banks the Leicester goalkeeper was the countries best,
Ray Wilson and George Cohen they withstood the test.
The elegant Bobby Moore and Jack Charlton so brave,
When beaten Banks of England made another great save.
The immaculate Bobby Charlton with his balding head and all,
The young ginger lad from Blackpool the tireless Alan Ball.
Little Bally and Nobby Styles they covered every inch,
When the Germans were in possession they’d rob, steel and pinch.
The ghostly Martin Peters, Roger Hunt would run all day,
Was the ball over the goal line?
Well Roger turned away.
The summer crowd at Wembley sweated out a huge thirst,
It was worth it because they witnessed a hat-trick from Geoff Hurst.
Assembled by Alf Ramsey now in the history book,
On DV or video grandchildren can take a look.
Twin towers, a Russian linesman, a July summer day,
With the Jules Rimet trophy Nobby jigged and danced away.

Property of RKB


© Robbie Kennedy Bennett
Written 1992



Printed on the website
Football Poets
24/04/2007

Within hours of forwarding this poem that I wrote in 1992 to the website in 2007, I heard that Alan Ball had sadly died of a heart attack. Having never aired this poem before that I had written in 1992 it was strange that it coincided with Bally's death.






Property of RKB







© Robbie Kennedy Bennett
© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett



I SUPPOSE IT WAS HUGHIE McILMOYLE, background of poem displayed on the website WOLVES HEROES, a 'must visit' for Wolves supporters and the old gold players who have graced the Molineux turf.
www.wolvesheroes.com/2009/01/13/an-ode-to-hugh/#more-2360


I Suppose It Was Hughie McIlmoyle © Robbie Kennedy Bennett







© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett


On New Years Eve 2008 before heading for home from our hotel in Dumfries my wife and I walked to Palmerston Park home of Queen of the South Football Club. In May they reached the Scottish Cup Final and were narrowly defeated by the mighty Rangers. I wrote a wee poem about the occasion when they took the lead with a goal from veteran defender Jim Thomson. I wanted a photo or two of the ground to put on my website with the poem. As we were outside a gentleman came out of the office and invited us inside. His name was Eric Moffat and he was the club secretary. We were there for about 30minutes chatting about football matters and he kindly showed us the pitch. A corridor in the ground on route to the players tunnel displays articles and paper cuttings of their history. Eric informs this is all the loyal work of Ian Black who also acts as kit-man. This type of act is the lifeblood of football clubs and Eric was a great ambassador for Queen of the South. It made a good ending for our wee break in Dumfries and Galloway. God bless them.


Scottish flags over the office door at Palmerston Park.
© Robbie Kennedy Bennett
© Robbie Kennedy Bennett
Supporters bricks.

Hampden Park, Bagpipes Drums and Legends, a must read for Scotland supporters and those who have graced the turf.
www.mrsite.co.uk/usersitesv6/rkbpoetry.co.uk/wwwroot/page20.htm

Lady Devorgilla Bridge, Dumfries.


Bless The Queen of the South © Robbie Kennedy Bennett






© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

A Scottish cap meant so much to one man other than this poet. Eddie Turnbull has the honour of being the first British footballer to score a goal in a European club competition for Hibernian in 1955. He was also one of the famous five. All of the five forwards of Hibs were selected to play for Scotland.

In the forties and fifties despite having represented Scotland 9 times he was awarded his first international cap in 2006 at the age of 82.



A Scottish Cap © Robbie Kennedy Bennett







www.ivanhoephotography.co.uk

BERT WILLIAMS, THE ORIGINAL 'CAT'©
© Poetic Writing of Robbie Kennedy Bennett wwwrkbpoetry.co.uk


When all honour has been distributed,
elders discuss what they all contributed.
So lest not forget the original ‘cat’,
he deserves this ode as simple as that.

From Bradley near Bilston he came,
Walsall to Wanderers shopfloor to fame.
School leaver to milk lorry tank maker at that,
Bert Williams, the original ‘cat’.

In the RAF in his prime he became number one,
his Wolves and England days are long gone.
Don’t tell the men of Molineux that,
Bert Williams, the original ‘cat’.

They still talk of Bert as of yesterday,
a legend of legends he is today.
Roll necked jumper, long shorts and all that,
Bert Williams, the original ‘cat’.

He’s got pictures and medals displayed on a shelf,
Don’t take it from me go and find out yourself.
Tell your grandad that you want a chat,
about Bert, the original ‘cat’.

Now all young keepers out there,
every town, every team, everywhere.
When you’re diving about well he’s done all that,
Bert Williams, the original ‘cat’.


www.ivanhoephotography.co.uk

Photographs of Bert Williams property of;
Peter Harrington
IVANHOE PHOTOGRAPHY
131 Heath Lane
Stourbridge
West Midlands.
DY8 1BB

01384 392651 / 07802 791992
www.ivanhoephotography.co.uk



Bert Williams, The Original ‘Cat’© Robbie Kennedy Bennett





Strathmiglo, Fife.
© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

THE STRATH WON THE FIFE CUP ©
© Poetic Writing of Robbie Kennedy Bennett www.rkbpoetry.co.uk

Perhaps one day I shall travel
Through the Lake District and the borderland.
Perhaps one day I shall be ‘neath a Lomond Hill
Perhaps one day I shall travel, perhaps I will.

Perhaps one day I shall travel
Through Cowdenbeath and Glenrothes,
Perhaps one day I shall go to Strathmiglo.

Perhaps one day I shall be close-up
To the pitch o’ the Strath who won the Fife Cup,
Perhaps one day I shall see their field of green,
Perhaps one day thinks this man,
This auld has been.

Now remember, Strathmiglo are a founder member,
Of the Kingdom Caledonian AFA,
Perhaps that day I’ll find the answer before I pack-up
Can you sup from the Fife Cup?

Perhaps one day I shall travel
Glasgow, an hour or so from Strathmiglo,
Living fitba life, breathing football breath,
“More serious” said Shank’s “than life or death.”

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett


Strathmiglo United A.F.C
Winners Fife Amateur Cup 2008/09
An ode to grass roots football
According to their website Association Football has been played in Strathmiglo for over 100 years.

Most people I know have been met through the game of football. It is a world wide link. It lives and breathes inside of us, it spoils our week if out team loses and lifts us when we win. A none football fan does not understand. They don't have one ear to the radio on a Saturday afternoon.

Bill Shankly once said, "It's more important than life or death". We all know it was a tongue in cheek remark but we understand what he meant.

Read more on Bill Shankly on page Glenbuck Cherrypicker From Ayrshire.

Some people will travel to the end of the earth for a game of football and some won't even cross the road.

THE STRATH WON THE FIFE CUP © Poetic Writing of Robbie Kennedy Bennett
















© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

In January 2009 at the Hall of fame at Molineux great servants of Wolverhampton Wanderers Football Club were awarded .

I noticed a picture of Andy Thompson with Steve Bull who had received an award , and rightly so.
Andy Thompson made the same move along with Bully to Molineux in 1986. When seeing this picture it reminded me of a poem I had wrote about Andy that I had never aired. I know that Steve and Andy are good mates and Steve would not deny this wee piece of poetic writing for Andy, a popular number 3.








© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

MUNRO O' BROUGHTY FERRY ©
Poetic Writing of Robbie Kennedy Bennett

Ower th’ Tay to Broughty Ferry,
A name I throw, Francis Munro.
Tentsmuir to Tayport I take a mo,
I take a mo and think of Frank Munro.

Munro o’ Broughty Ferry,
Good? Aye he was very.
Consider I would as sacrilege
If forgetting I should nearing the Tay Road Bridge.

When Wolves were winners for Los Angeles,
An opposing performance was sure to please.
Scored three, did he for Washington Whips,
Munro, the name on Ronnie Allen’s lips.

Munro o’ Broughty Ferry,
He made the faithful merry.
Th’ Dons o’ Pittodrie to Molineux,
Francis, your service I am thanking you.

Francis, foregoing beside the Tay
Tayport to Dundee I’ll be on my way,
With blistered feet I’m thinking of you
Yer ‘auld Boss’ Eddie Turnbull he liked you too.

So you folk there in Broughty Ferry,
I’ll have you know that we loved Frank Munro.
Munro o’ Broughty Ferry,
Good? Aye he was very.
Broughty Ferry ower th’ Tay,
Fare ye weel I’m on ma wey.

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett



I looked over the Tay to Broughty Ferry at Tentsmuir Point while walking the Fife Coastal Path from St Andrews to Dundee. I recalled that it was the birthplace of Francis Munro who Wolves had brought from Aberdeen in 1968. I would then be a lad of 14 and remembered that Wolves were the ‘Yankee Champions’ the previous year. They beat Aberdeen 6-5 in the final and Munro had scored a hat trick against them. He came to Wolverhampton for a fee in the region of £55,000 giving them 9 years service as a cultured centre back.

MUNRO O' BROUGHTY FERRY ©
Poetic Writing of Robbie Kennedy Bennett











AARON'S FIRST MATCH © Poetic Writing of Robbie Kennedy Bennett

Unzipped his coat, puffed out his chest,
to show his shirt just like the rest.
He’ll get the bug, suppose I’ll buy him a scarf
relatively early he’s only three and a half.

Aaron’s first game he’s at his first match,
it’s highly infectious and football fever he’ll catch.

Football fever is in his genes
granddad’s, uncles the lot,
football fever he’ll get and football fever he’s got.

In his chest when he loosened his coat
and in his voice when he cleared his throat,
he made a noise that all supporters make
football fever was caught and there’s no medicine he can take.

Aaron’s first game he’s at his first match,
it’s highly infectious and football fever he’ll catch.

May as well let it out
like his dad at a penalty shout,
football fever is old and isn’t brand new
and you’ve probably got it too.

Three toilet visits a bottle of pop
he ain’t yet heard of the Spion Kop,
zipped up his coat and went, this tenner was well spent.

Aaron’s first game he’s at his first match,
it’s highly infectious and football fever he’ll catch.
He caught it in the queue, the queue at the Molineux.



Three generations of a family at a football match, the elder can tell of the club’s past, the middle can tell of the present and one day the youngest will tell of the future.

Here's to all young fans of any football club whoever they support. It’s good to see them watching live football.


Aaron’s First Match © Robbie Kennedy Bennett











POETIC WRITING OF ROBBIE KENNEDY BENNETT ©
www.rkbpoetry.co.uk

www.scotlands-enchanting-kingdom.com/in-my-blood.html

www.poetryofscotland.co.uk/bennett.php

www.footballpoets.org/p.asp?Id=22949

www.blackcountrybugle.co.uk/blackcountrybugle-news/displayarticle.asp?id=104273

www.fifetoday.co.uk/east-fife-mail-news/Wolverhampton-wanderer-muses-on-coastal.3926209.jp

www.wolvesheroes.com/2009/01/13/an-ode-to-hugh/#more-2360

pub10.bravenet.com/forum/849684916/show/1013616

www.smartcommunityfife.org.uk/collessie-and-letham/history/

www.smartcommunityfife.org.uk/ladybank/history/