Ledley King of White Hart Lane
leaves us now, in too much pain.
His story sad, and unfinished
knees cracked and buckled, class undiminished
The best English defender of his time?
Certainly in the top ten (or nine).
Better than Woodgate, Ferdinand too
better than Terry, we always knew
King was blessed with great talent
He had so much that other players hadn’t –
moving with uncommon grace and class,
shame his body’s made of glass
Yes injuries were such a curse
he was so good, and that made it worse!
Why did his body leave him so hobbled?
(It’s best that we don’t ask Glenn Hoddle)
I would have had him in my team
if he could stay upright and play seventeen
games or more in a row
but he couldn’t, so sadly it’s time to go.
He will be replaced but not forgotten
remembered for his luck so rotten
and bravery – after every fall
he’d be back again, chasing the ball.
But this time he’s not back on his feet
he’s had enough; he’s done, he’s beat
he just can’t fight anymore.
Lesser men would have given up years before.
Ledley you will be remembered
at the Lane, but thoughts are tempered
by regrets – drowned out in the applause
and by memories of your half won wars.