Cruel Britannia.  The Home fans had flocked here from miles around, To Englands green and present Premier football ground, All set to see England play winningly at Wembley, All so happy together, in a gloriously riotous assembly.  All through the first half the crowd stood, up and singing, By late on in the second half, down and hand-wringing, Still hopefully singing- this time the lads would be victorious, Ringing proud round the ground, loud if ultimately vainglorious.  Once more, as oft before, England failed the test, Again, fair England, penalised into being second best, As per tradition, opportunity and spot kicks missed, But this national tragedy came with an extra kick twist.  The stunned crowd streamed from Wembley, sad, deflated, Not singing 'Land Of Hope And Glory' as much anticipated, Herded into their British Rail carriages, to sit in silent ponder; Emptiness carried up to Goole, Hull, Halfwhistle and yonder..  Or to East or West, But, everywhere, depressed, Even in the Beautiful South- Deeply down in the mouth.  Later, be it in the Albion, the Crown, Anchor or the Rising Sun, Fans shared rounds with old mates, gathered in commiseration, Next morning, wondering upon waking, shaking, with sore head How much viral disappointment could they possibly have spread?

'Want a beer when you've got nowt to cheer about- fancy a Corona?'

©Obbverse

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