Keeper's Gloves

He used to play football after school
Pretended he was on the pitch for real
His friends too; passing the ball in the hot sun
Like their heroes in boots and keeper’s gloves

He loved to play in goal – to recreate
The craft of Shilton, or of Clemence
While in front of him, docked out in red
His friends raced towards him as Keegan

Such lovely times; I watched the boy grow up
Still donning his gloves through high school
To safeguard his school side, and each weekend
He’d head on down through Stanley Park to sing

He wore red as if it were his heart
I guess it was; he cheered for his team
He cheered on to finals and to trophies
Though he was always there for us as well

I’ll never forget that fateful night
When I heard the news and prayed for him
Prayed that he had not been in the horror
But I received the dread knock upon the door

And I still think back to those days in the park
His goalkeeper’s gloves white against the dark
A child’s voice singing “You’ll never walk alone”
But it’s been twenty years since he’s been home