Down.

Out?

Maybe…

All bled out

Seen it all before

Chances missed. Games lost. Curses hurled.

Murphy’s law at work. Elaborate plans unravelled.

Abused and made fun of by Tom, Dick and Harry. Once more, it was us against the world.

All that passion. Screaming our lungs out in the stands. All the tears and pain.

And worse? The sinking familiar feeling that it was coming again.

Was it all for nought? What seemed like years upon years of devotion and no titles to show. That “wins” column stuck on a big zero.

If I had to go back all those years, would I have it any other way? A resounding NO!

That feeling of pride of a hometown hero coming through and making the big time,

The stadium rocking on a Friday evening to the stars just hitting their prime,

The magical feeling of going on a run and hearing tens of thousands chanting a name,

There’s a reason we do this to ourselves, suckers for punishment, facing ridicule time and time again

When you start supporting a club, you don’t support it because of the trophies, or a player, or a history, you support it because you found yourself somewhere there; found a place where you belong

You found yourself looking forward to the next game week on week, that dopamine hit, that emotional release, and for those fleeting moments you were more than you yourself, United in consciousness United by song

It’s cliche to say that they do it all for the love of the game but there’s a reason all fans will say, “We’ve got it next year”

Because the players may change but this love is forever.

A Fibonacci poem (or Fib) is a multiple-line verse based on the Fibonacci sequence so that the number of syllables in each verse equals the total number of syllables in the preceding two verse. I tried to make the longer verses smaller poems in itself to be more readable which is why I’ve given them out in smaller lines. Would love to hear any thoughts and feedback 🙂