Brother Walfrid's Team Poem by Daniel McDonagh

In the town of Glasgow, there is a football team,
That was born from Brother Walfrid’s dream,
Where the Irish saw, hope and a promise
On the players that wore the Celtic Cross.

And the Parkhead years have delivered players
That the fans have prayed for in their prayers,
And the parade of supporters along the Gallowgate
Have walked with their fathers, cheered with their mates.

The memories welcome Willie Maley,
Of the scoring record of Jimmy McGrory;
The golden skills of wee Jinky Johnstone
Where the Jungle praised him in their songs.

The name of Dalglish, in the old famous hoops,
Was the star of Parkhead, in Jock Stein’s book,
A legend of the 70‘s, was the talented King Kenny,
Who swapped the green & white for the red of the Mersey.

And heroes, they come and go at Paradise,
Frank McAvennie and champagne Charlie Nicholas,
But the fans have stayed faithful, through years that were lean,
As the blood of the fans, is a rich emerald green.

We have grown in years but we are still young at heart,
As we sing of the glory of the players at Celtic Park,
The heroes of today are the Lennon’s and Larsson’s,
The heroes of tomorrow, play in Celtic’s horizon.

Nov'18th 2003