Sunday At Ruchill Park
Poem By Daniel McDonagh
Sunday afternoon at Ruchill Park
Passing the ball back and forth with my father,
Wearing my brand new boots that he bought the day before,
‘They’re the same pair that are worn by Stevie Chalmers’.
The blue sky is the colour as Our Lady’s cape
That I saw on her statue at morning Mass,
Then I raced home to change into my Celtic strip,
Today would be the day, I would be Bobby Lennox.
Ruchill Park would be my imaginary Parkhead
Where the trees would be the faithful supporters,
The sound of the leaves that rustled in the breeze
Would be a roar for every time I would score.
On the days that it rained, I would look through a windowpane
As the hallway of my home became my new playing field,
While the streets of Glasgow shone in the rain,
It was on these days that I was Billy McNeill.