New pitch , new Spaniard at the helm.
Mid-table's what they reckon.
But I've got that early August hope;
blue-ribboned glory beckons.
'That's daft!' they laugh. They think I'm mad.
An optimistic blue?
Free flowing football's what we'll see!
My hope may render truth.
The lads will yearn for the Glwadys roar as Jags leads them to light.
Z cars pierced by crackling cheers;
ovations for craft and fight.
The burden of hope rests on broad shoulders.
Sylvain makes sure of that.
Don't fear for stalwarts getting older.
There's young rabbits in Bobby's hat.
With Gerard's burning, white hot talent
and Ross to come of age.
A rip-roaring season we're sure to see.
On Bobby's Boys I bet my wage.
We'll find out in May if the ticker tape flies in a mist of white and blue.
But it will all start with a pint down on County Road.
A toast Bobby's Boys; to you.