Poetic Writing of ROBBIE KENNEDY BENNETT © www.rkbpoetry.co.uk Born in Wolverhampton of English and Scottish parentage. He grew up on the Rough Hills Estate area of the town and his Scottish ancestral roots are in the Kingdom of Fife and Dundee. The author is now residing in Codsall, Staffordshire. Drawings, pictures and writing are copyright of the author Robbie Kennedy Bennett. This page is for poems of mine about individual people. They need not be professional in their chosen careers nor need they have ever lived. They could have been a fictitious character. This page is where legends and ordinary folk combine, starting with a late friend of mine whose knickname I found in younger years was Flighty Guy. FLIGHTY GUY. THE DAYS OF BILLY BREMNER. CHRIS PATERSON. ALF TUPPER. McALISTER. FRED LOWBRIDGE. HE PLAYED OUR FAVOURITE TUNE. 'ENNERY'S HAMMER. HOW GOOD WAS BILLY LIDDLE? A FELLOW NAMED TAM BENNETT. DIXIE. THOMAS JOSEPH HARRIS. PETE THE HAT. YANBO. A REAL HARD CASE. EMILY SMILED (Emily Garrington-Harris). FRENCHIE PEARSON. ROGER SALTER, AN INNOCENT MAN. IMPOSSIBLE, TO RUN THE HEART OUT OF MICKY HART.

Property of RKB

FLIGHTY GUY © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

The Story Behind The Poem

Brian Guy was a friend of my brother-in-law who I would meet when I visited Codsall. This one year at Wembley Stadium I heard someone call my name. I turned to see it was Brian who then offered me a bottle of beer that he had sneaked into the ground. He was with a party of Codsall mates who had travelled down for the game. My brother-in-law had given me one of his two tickets. He had opted for the better one in the seated area. He was aghast to find out later I had been with Brian and his mates and when he found I had been drinking a bottle of beer, the jealously was obvious to see.

A few years later when I moved to Codsall Brian was on the committee at the local club. He was always pleasant to my family and myself and made us feel welcome. He was always humorous when we entered the club and he was great company. 'Are you a member? he always questioned with a broad grin.

One memory of Brian was during the annual fun-run from the club. I was in second place by the end of the first mile. When we ran around a bend in Strawmoor Lane there was Brian pushing a 'buggie' with his grandaughter in. On his chest was pinned his race number. 'I was allowed a 5-minute start', he shouted to me as I passed him by.

Years later Brian and I were at the bar in conversation over a pint. He mentioned a boy who used to live next door to him. Brian gave him his football programmes when he had been to the match. I was flabbergasted to find that the boy was my cousin. And further more I had seen him the previous week and would probably see him again next week. When I told him I knew Brian he immediately replied, 'You mean Flighty Guy'. From then he told me about how fast Brian was when playing football. 'He could catch pigeons', as they say in the Black Country.

The next time I visited the club I approached Brian and said, 'You’re Flighty Guy'. The smile on his face broadened with delight, it was obvious to see that I had made his day.

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

part extract;
by Robbie Kennedy Bennett

The smell of Bovril and a cigarette,
A long hard season and it isn't over yet.
I purchased a programme
From this old chap before the game,
A shudder up my spine I felt
When I read his name...

The Days of Billy Bremner © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

Property of RKB

CHRIS PATERSON © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

Chris Paterson booted seven penalties from seven to steer the Scots to victory.
Statistically he is the best kicker in world rugby.

News of the World February 11, 2007.

His seven penalties against Wales at Murrayfield on the 10 February 2007 became a Scottish record in the 6 Nations tournament.

part extract;
By Robbie Kennedy Bennett 1997

He lived on fish and chips suppers,
Who did?
Alf Tupper,
The Tough Of The Track...

ALF TUPPER © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

Story Behind The Poem.

When I was a young lad I was Alf Tupper 'The Tough of the Track'. If you are roughly the same age as me you will know him as a comic hero. He was a schoolboy runner who was as honest as the day is born and worked hard for everything he achieved. I don't know who created Alf but I wonder if he knew how many youngsters that he inspired.
In the mid eighties I am working at a fork lift company and I am in conversation with Alan 'George' Rudge. He is Alan because that is what his mother wanted him named and George because that is what his dad wanted him called. It is most confusing when he explains this to you but he has 'Alan' tattooed on his arm, or is it 'George?
One day we were talking about great sportsmen and I mentioned Alf Tupper and the surprise on his face when he realised that he had also been inspired by him. The following Sunday morning we had arranged to play football and from the top of a hill I could hear a voice calling me. There was Rudgie proudly wearing his new tee shirt with the logo that he had printed on 'Alf Tupper Lives OK'.
In 2002 I had an old poem of Alf printed in The Black Country Bugle and I dedicated it to Rudgie and he was told of it while he was at work at Goodyears. I was beginning to think that he did not know of it but a phone call one evening a few weeks later from my brother Stuart surprised me. 'Hello Rob I'm at the fair and someone wants to speak to you'. 'Hi'ya Bob' a voiced called 'Alf Tupper lives ok', 'he certainly does', I told him.

Years later when working elsewhere a colleague of mine was a former well known pro-footballer. One of his clubs was West Bromwich Albion. He told me that Alf Tupper was his idol as a young lad. From that conversation I later presented him with a copy of my poem.

Living proof that Alf Tupper lives in the hearts of a generation of young boys, me included.

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

part extract;
by Robbie Kennedy Bennett

McAlister you had my admiration,
A respectful type of football adulation.
Your sky blue team they were in hiding,
You were instructing,
Encouraging and deciding.

McALISTER © Robbie Kennedy Bennett 2007

And guess what player they bought.


As a neutral at Upton Park I witnessed the performance of a good old 'pro'. While younger players were accepting a beating and going into hiding Gary McAlister of Coventry shone like a beacon. I noticed a player turn his head when McAlister told him to take a corner in front of the West Ham fans. He ran over to take it himself to the chorus of 'You're old and you know you are'. McAlister agreed with them and deserved a rousing applause for his humour as well as his performance.

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

part extract;
By Robbie Kennedy Bennett 1991

I studied old Fred has he worked
A fellow so gentle and kind,
Private and so inoffensive
No finer a man can you find...

In 1996 this poem became the second piece of my writing to be printed in the BLACK COUNTRY BUGLE.
The impression it made on his family inspired me to write further work.

The Story Behind The Poem FRED LOWBRIDGE © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

When I was in my teens I worked in Monmore Green, Wolverhampton.
Within this place of work there were many characters of which some have helped me to mould myself to the man that I am today.

One of those characters was Fred Lowbridge, a Surface Grinder working in the tool room. I was told that he was a boxer when he was a young man. It was now early 1970's and he would be in his sixties. A good 15 years or so had passed and I was working in Wednesfield when I decided to write a poem about Fred.

My family and I moved house to Codsall, just outside of Wolverhampton in 1986 and settled into the local community. One day in a local pub a gentleman named as Fred Lowbridge was pointed out to me. 'That’s not Fred Lowbridge, I informed, he's not old enough'. It so happened that it was Fred's son, also named Fred. I got to know him over the years as I did many other locals who all knew me as Bob.

I was unfortunately made redundant in the 1980's and made a career change into insurance. One of my customers was named Lowbridge and I mentioned to him that I had written a poem about Fred Lowbridge who happened to be his dad. I am not sure if I had imagined it but he didn't seem to make too much of an impression upon him. Perhaps he was thinking I was a 'crack pot' as they said in the old days.

In July of 1996, almost 5 years since I had wrote it, I heard that a local nostalgic newspaper called the Black Country Bugle had printed it. Well young Fred then telephoned his brother to tell him that a poem about their dad written by someone called Robbie Bennett was in the Bugle. His brother then told him that I knew him and lived in Codsall. Fred then realised it was me; 'oh it's Bob the footballer' he said. On the Thursday afternoon young Fred came to visit me at home. 'You've made a family proud he told me, 'my mother has said it is him to a tee'. I was shocked to find that she was still alive and into her 90's.

Young Fred has now passed on and I introduced myself to his widow at Alf Perry's funeral. She was pleasantly surprised to meet me and complimented me on the poem. She also told me how proud young Fred was when he saw it in print.

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

part extract;
by Robbie Kennedy Bennett 2007

In Memory of Mark Fellows

Written on behalf of his friends at
Codsall Legionaires Club

On the evening of a March eclipse,
His name fell sadly from someone's lips.
The deejay always played a tune,
Into the night and under the silvery moon.
He should be remembered for what it is worth,
For the good times he gave in his life on this earth.

On the 12th May 2007 this poem with his picture was presented to Mark’s widow.
A production of this work is displayed in the Codsall Legionaries Club.

He Played Our Favourite Tune © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

by Robbie Kennedy Bennett 1991

Remember old 'enery’s hammer,
Remember the terrific left hook.
Remember connecting on Cassius,
He admitted his kinfolk he shook.

Remember the bell starting ringing,
Remember Dundee split his glove.
Remember young Clay on his backside,
Saved from the stars up above.

Remember when Clay changed to Ali,
Remember as well Smokin’ Joe.
Remember to big George Forman,
All beat by Ali we know.

Remember he said he’s ‘The Greatest’,
Remember he said he’d beat Liston.
Remember old ‘enery’s hammer,
The hook with a power of a piston.

British Heavyweight Champion.

Sir Henry Cooper OBE (3 May 1934 – 1 May 2011)

'ennery's hammer © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

part extract;
by Robbie Kennedy Bennett

He said he’d been a Kopite since 1951,
In his honest opinion, the best had since passed on.

He was great he said as he nodded his head.
Above everyone else by far.
I’m conversing with an old un,
Who tells of a boy that became a star...

How Good Was Billy Liddle? © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

A Fellow Named Tam Bennett © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

Property of RKB

Dixie © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

Property of RKB
Property of RKB

Mar 09, 2008
How sad!

What a sad tale about this young man. I have a particular interest in the Forth Rail Bridge - as my Great-grandfather was one of the men who helped build it. He survived; but it is still a tragedy that so many lost their lives when building this magnificent bridge.
Thanks for sharing it Robbie, and for this lovely tribute to this young man,Thomas Joseph Harris

Thomas Joseph Harris © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

Property of RKB

Property of RKB

Pete The Hat © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett
© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

Yanbo © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

Desperate Dan strides along the High Street of Dundee, the city of his birth.
This 8ft-tall bronze statue was unveiled by schoolchildren in 2001. Along with Dan is his faithful pet Dawg and Minnie the Minx from the Beano with catapult in hand. The Dandy has featured Desperate Dan almost every week since 1937.

Dundee is the home of DC Thomson, publishers of the comic.

Angus artists, Tony and Susie Morrow, sculptured the statues of these remarkable comic characters.

A Real Hard Case © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

EMILY SMILED, brave Emily Garrington-Harris, former pupil at Codsall High School who passed away on 4th January 2009 aged 28. On December 10, Emily performed a solo dance in Birmingham in aid of the Wish Upon A Star appeal for terminally ill children.

Em, 'If happy little bluebirds fly'.

Emily Smiled © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

A Personality By The of Frenchie Pearson © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

Rooker Avenue
© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

ROGER SALTER, AN INNOCENT MAN © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

In football terms
two footed
jumped like a salmon
and I am
thinking of all I can
of Roger Salter
an innocent man

he trapped, sprayed a pass
call it whatever
but for now
...I'll call it world class
thinking of all I can
of Roger Salter
an innocent man

around five feet nine
maybe touching five feet ten
defending in a team
against rugged, tough men
thinking of all I can
of Roger Salter
an innocent man

Parkfield Working Mens I think
the club for he was playing
where my old man had a drink
thinking of all I can
of Roger Salter
an innocent man

I could spot him everywhere
closing down forwards
with his long dark hair
thinking of all I can
of Roger Salter
an innocent man

Rooker Avenue was the pitch
playing for love and not to get rich
thinking of all I can
of Roger Salter
an innocent man

sticking out
and getting stuck in
giving tricky players nowt
and out to get a win
thinking of all I can
of Roger Salter
an innocent man

in a cloudy white field
up in the sky
is many a player
that will never ever die
and there is one
that's leaping like a salmon
two footed
and I'm gutted
thinking of all I can
of Roger Salter
an innocent man

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

Parkfield Working Mens, Martin Street
© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

Roger Salter, an Innocent Man © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

I first saw Roger Salter playing football in Parkfields on a Saturday afternoon on Rooker Avenue playing field. Later in life we were to work and play in the same team together. This one evening we were out socialising and he stopped by at our house for a night-cap. I was reminded of this evening by his wife Pat when paying my last respect for him and of a poem I wrote about 28 years previously called Roger an Innocent Man.

I had forgot about the poem but not the evening as Roger said that he knew he had had too much to drink as he had just saw a 'rat in a bubble'. It was actually a hamster in an exercise ball that I had just put down.

I had wrote the poem in humour for Roger being late home. Little did I know that over the years they both had many a laugh about it. Upon realizing I was there on the day of Roger's funeral, Pat sent someone back to their house to get the poem. There it was, hand scribbled on an ageing piece of notepad paper.

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett

ROGER SALTER, AN INNOCENT MAN, in a cloudy white field, up in the sky, is many a player that will never ever die

Additional Information;

It was a surprise one morning in late May 2013 to open an e-mail with a small poem about me and the mention of the Bugle?

At first I was a bit bemused but after a short while the penny dropped that there may be a piece of my writing in the Black Country Bugle. With that in mind I went up to the local paper shop and purchased the latest edition. It was around 1995 that I first had a poem printed it in The Bugle and the excitement came over me as it did then. If it was a poem, I could not think what it could be as I had not sent anything to the Bugle in recent weeks. There it was on page 14, my ode about Roger Salter, and I was delighted to see an old mates name in print. Our playing and working together days came flooding back.

I have re-read the poem a few times since it being in print and thought that it needed a picture or two. Whilst next in the area I parked up in Rooker Avenue and took a photo of where the pitch was when I first saw Roger. Yes I was correct, I could visualise him with his long hair, which was the fashion of the day, closing down forwards and leaping high to beat them in the air. He really was two-footed and it is a credit to Roger that you could not tell which one. It was a Sunday and most disappointingly there was not one youngster playing on the field. Roger and I were of a different generation and football pitches were the only places to be.

Standing there alone I turned around to see the derelict Rough Hills Tavern. I looked for the outdoor entrance where many times us kids would be hanging about. I've returned many a bottle to the Tavern to get my 3d's. I can also remember my dad being bitten by the Landlord's dog as he was walking across the car-park.

My next stop was not far away at Martin Street to take a photo of Parkfields Working Mens Club. That did not appear to be open so I wondered if it is another social venue that has gone. I recalled that it had a bowling green at the rear of the club that you could access in the next street and I found it to be overgrown. In 1986 I moved to the other side of Wolverhampton, although pleased to be in my old area, I was saddened of the times of change as we had many happy hours at the club and on the playing field.

To recall people and places to mind makes a life worth living.

Roger Salter, an Innocent Man © Robbie Kennedy Bennett

Waddens Brook Lane in Wednesfield 2013
© Robbie Kennedy Bennett


It’s impossible, not possible
impossible let me start
let me write about Micky Hart

At the Yale, without fail,
lunchtimes we would train
out the gates two runners on Waddens Brook Lane

I’d be chasing, we’d be racing
in sunshine, sleet or rain
out the gates two runners on Waddens Brook Lane

He’d be running, I’d be gunning
we must have looked insane
two runners on Waddens Brook Lane

The long stretch of Broad Lane
to the Broadway on Lichfield Road
Micky Hart, a man with desire
a fighter, a damn good trier!

Lakeside Road we ran home
London Marathon he had ahead
at a good pace we raced
an important fact here should be read

It’s impossible, not possible
impossible, to run the heart out of Micky Hart

To the Yale, without fail
lunchtimes we would train
into the gates two runners on Waddens Brook Lane

It’s impossible, not possible
impossible, to run the heart out of Micky Hart
It was impossible right from the start
because I tried, to break his pride and this poet hasn't lied!

© Robbie Kennedy Bennett 2013

IMPOSSIBLE, TO RUN THE HEART OUT OF MICKY HART, how can I write and not mention this training partner of mine. When in my thirty's I was working at Yale Material Handling in Wednesfield. I got to know Micky Hart well as we had similar backgrounds with an interest in playing football and running. We had an hour lunchtime so we would go running on a circuit of just over couple of mile if my memory serves me correct.. Yesterday, I was on the playing fields of Wednesfield High School looking over to Lakefield Road. Many times Micky Hart and myself would be seen running at a good pace back to the Yale. At the beginning of our time running together I was slightly quicker than him and would give him a 20 second start. As time went on Mick got faster and faster proving difficult to catch up with. It was great to hear our training together had helped him to break the 3 hour barrier on the London Marathon. Well done mate!

I was pleased to be remembered to be invited to Mick's surprise 60th Birthday. He spoke humorously well considering the physical challenges he has endured and one can only admire him. Without doubt he has spirit and desire that is obvious to see.

The following day I went to Waddens Brook Lane in Wednesfield to take the picture above. Many times we rounded that corner on the road back into work.

Impossible, to Run the Heart out of Micky Hart © Robbie Kennedy Bennett 2013


In My Blood, by Robbie Kennedy Bennett on Scotland's Enchanted Kingdom. This and a short detailed account plus other odes about Fife. Featured since 2008;

Featured poet on Poetry of Scotland since 2006;

Football Poets / Robbie Kennedy Bennett;

Wolverhampton wanderer muses on coastal path

An Ode To Hugh, Devotion In Rhyme;

Welcome to the writings of Robbie Kennedy Bennett, on Collessie.... a great place to live.

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RKB poetry since 1989