Photo by Earl Gardner

My Union Heart / Here’s To Next Year

There’s a place in my heart filled with Blue and with Gold,

a place full of memories, new and some old,

a place I hold dearly and keep as my own,

a place where my fandom can dwell and can roam.

This chamber’s been battered so many a-time

that I cannot quite say it’ll ever be fine.

This chamber’s been tugged on, teased loose, disregarded,

pandered and pummeled, ignored and bombarded.

This chamber has been through such lilting and tumbling,

through 12 Days of Goalkeeper Christmas joke mumbling,

through late-goal-concessions and nonsense formations,

through public park practices, trades, and foundations,

through Chief Tattoo Officer’s freshly dried tats,

through puppy adoptions and public fan spats,

through “Oh, Le Toux” songs and some “Seitz, Seitz, Seitz” chants,

through Sons of Ben shirtless, but surely with pants…

Through all of this nonsense I stood and I cheered,

I’ve podcasted, written, stayed up late, grown beards,

I’ve married, had kids, bought a house, and grown up,

and every step of the way I’ve shown up.

Just like you, I’ve shown up and, so that I can cope,

asked for nil but a brief ninety minutes of hope.

However so fleeting, hope surely’s been there,

afloat ever-softly in Dogfish Head Beer.

This chamber’s been lifted by go-la-zo goals,

by triangle midfields and Troy Cole’s bold soles,

by Fred and by Danny (Mwanga or Califf),

by Seba, for both of the strange times when he left,

by Mondragon, Ale, by Valdez or JacMac,

by Kevin Kinkead’s hope for 3 at the back.

This chamber’s been lifted enough times, in fact,

that I cannot foresee any future abstract

where my fandom has left me or waned so away

that I forgo a calendar day that’s Match Day.

The warmth of these moments, I’ve come to conclude,

has made these poor Union a part of my brood.

So call me the sucker in four shades of blue

who actually plunked down for tickets anew.

I did it. I bought them. I’ll be in the stands

with a gluten free cheese steak, a-work on my tan.

I cannot escape them, it’s just who I am…

In holiday spirit, with eggnog in hand,

here’s to next year, as always, and to all of us fans.