BWFC poetry thread.

Following on from the Marvin thread, sum up the last 2 years in poetry.

Dear Owen you started so well.
We saw Wembley, oh fucking hell
What happened after that
made you look a twat.
you're training was shit
the players unfit
which cost us our place in the top tier,
Even Megson achieved that for 2 year.

Owen Coyle was so shit he took us down

He was so clueless he looked like a clown

A few goals in the 90's kept him in the job

But in the end Eddie got rid off the knob

In came Dougie to sort out Coyles mess

Players look hungry and are starting to impress

This season I think we've left it too late

But I predict next year is going to be great

there once was a man called owen

who just couldn't get the players going

he'd wear shorts on the pitch

and turned into a bitch

and now he's on gardening leave sewing (seeds)

Bernard Dennis Park wrote:Owen Coyle was so shit he took us down

He was so clueless he looked like a clown

A few goals in the 90's kept him in the job

But in the end Eddie got rid off the knob

In came Dougie to sort out Coyles mess

Players look hungry and are starting to impress

This season I think we've left it too late

But I predict next year is going to be great

You have a hidden talent.

Bernard Dennis Park wrote:Owen Coyle was so shit he took us down

He was so clueless he looked like a clown

A few goals in the 90's kept him in the job

But in the end Eddie got rid off the knob

In came Dougie to sort out Coyles mess

Players look hungry and are starting to impress

This season I think we've left it too late

But I predict next year is going to be great

Brilliant.

I knew his hardman act was just that..

Only real men can write poetry.

Gerry Taggart and Stig Tofting are ace at it.

Bernard is a published poet.

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That's Natasha on the front cover btw.

I have often been the inspiration for poetry.

Darkness.
Despair.
Wembley? Oh Dear.
The goals were flowing.
In the wrong fcuking goal, Owen!

Owen Coyle looks like a horse

He said he'd take Bolton on the right course

What happened at Wembley was a complete farce

Owen Coyle now looks like an arse

He followed that nightmare by taking us down

Now we're getting beat by the likes of Ipswich Town

We now have Dougie to save our bacon

We can look forward to more points being taken

Our dream is to again play in the Prem

Now we hope we have a managerial gem

roses are red

violets are blue

theres a common theme

owen is pooh

I'm not a poet.

Owen Coyle managed,
He was the best he as been.
His phone is silent now!

Alas! Poor Owen, we knew him well
At least as far as we could tell
He tried to turn our fate around
By saving every single pound
He slashed the wages, cut the staff
No overpaid ponce would dare to laugh
Or he'd be sold, no hesitation
The gravy train had reached the station
And through it all OC stayed cheery
A proper media darling deary
Never showing his fatigue
Just love for the Barclays Premier league
The team was cut down to the bones
So could we cope with kids and loans?
Well no. It got beyond a joke
Our fate was sealed away at Stoke
And down we went like a ten bob whore
So did Fat Phil show Coyle the door?
Well no. The press said we'd be back
(But who ever listens to a Fleet Street hack?)
The summer passed but we weren't laughin'
We needed decent playing staff in
But what we got just made me quake
I mean Keith Andrews FFS!
Predictably, the season started
And ended 'fore the first spadge farted
The masterplan was on the rocks
What fate belied our prince of Jocks?
Dismissed - though it was all too late
Our title hopes had shared his fate
So if you ever wonder why
Don't think that Owen didn't try
Be kind to Owen - don't be mean
He was the best he's ever been.

wanderlust wrote:Alas! Poor Owen, we knew him well
At least as far as we could tell
He tried to turn our fate around
By saving every single pound
He slashed the wages, cut the staff
No overpaid ponce would dare to laugh
Or he'd be sold, no hesitation
The gravy train had reached the station
And through it all OC stayed cheery
A proper media darling deary
Never showing his fatigue
Just love for the Barclays Premier league
The team was cut down to the bones
So could we cope with kids and loans?
Well no. It got beyond a joke
Our fate was sealed away at Stoke
And down we went like a ten bob whore
So did Fat Phil show Coyle the door?
Well no. The press said we'd be back
(But who ever listens to a Fleet Street hack?)
The summer passed but we weren't laughin'
We needed decent playing staff in
But what we got just made me quake
I mean Keith Andrews FFS!
Predictably, the season started
And ended 'fore the first spadge farted
The masterplan was on the rocks
What fate belied our prince of Jocks?
Dismissed - though it was all too late
Our title hopes had shared his fate
So if you ever wonder why
Don't think that Owen didn't try
Be kind to Owen - don't be mean
He was the best he's ever been.

This is a belter. We have our own Nuts Laureate.

At the bar, having a jar.

The team sheet is called out from afar.

I hear the name Knight, and have a fright.

I think fuck it! I've got abit of time, i nip into the bogs for a quick line.

I come out buzzing and want a fight, i hope the footballs not shite.

Sordell missed a sitter, i wish he would get off that twitter.

Anyway, time for another line, next season we'll be fine.

Fantastic wanderlust!!

BoltonTillIDie wrote:Fantastic wanderlust!!

What about mine ?

You missed me out.

Good job wanderlust, your our poet, you gay twat.