(Dotun Odegbame’s poem)
The weather is cold, unfriendly
Everything seems alien
I’m playing at home, a long way from home
I can’t understand the manager’s jokes
But he smiles, I think he likes me
The lads all laugh, I’m not sure why
But they make me feel welcome
Not sure about chips and lager
Miss my mother’s cooking
I’m playing at home, a long way from home
The crowd have now learned my name
Some pronounce it properly
Once they chanted it for two minutes
When I scored my first goal
Don’t understand all the words
But football’s an international language
Things are getting better, playing at home
Still a very long way from home