Summer of Sixty Six – Part Thirteen

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It’s strange the things

The mind recalls

Of Ugo Splaine

Not much at all.

 

He’d a Yorkshire dad

And a German mum

And hair grips in

wavey blonde hair.

 

I’m not sure how his mother felt

Amidst our exuberant excitement.

For thirty two minutes

There were no more goals

Then Alan Ball’s pass

Hurst’s shot deflected

Peters is there

And gets the score.

 

We all leaped up

The men all roared

I broke a cup

But no one cared.

Clap, clap

Clap, clap, clap

Clap, clap, clap, clap

England!

 

Thirteen minutes

We’d need to hang on.

How could they breach

Our famous defence?

Emmerich’s kick

Comes off George Cohen.

It falls to Held

He shoots across goal

It deflects off Schneider

Sends Banks the wrong way.

 

Weber is there to equalise.

We couldn’t believe it

We thought we’d won.

World Cup victory

Snatched from our grasp.

The game’s forced in

To extra time.

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