I walked up Shakerley Lane
That cobbled path
A turnpike road I believe in olden days
Past Ellen Connelly’s farm
She’s in my class
And over the railway bridge where trains ablaze
The bus from Leigh to Bolton 82
Comes round the corner
I get on and pay
I’m off to see the Wanderers you see
Gabardine mac and cap against the rain
That fine rain the one that soaks you through
It’s night time Wednesday evening
On my own
David has a cold so cannot come
But I’ll be shortly leaving
For school in Birmingham
I’ve got to see the Wanderers while I can
A blue black sky
Is over all that night
And twenty thousand people know the score
They turn out in the dark
With caps against the rain
While Wanderers versus Wolves takes to the floor
I stand on the Embankment
In the rain
Yellow floodlights catch the falling dew
Not pouring rain not lashing rain
But steady falling drizzle
Wets you through
The Wanderers were very good that night
Not ours but theirs
They played us out of sight
They won two nil I must confess
The gold and black it did impress
The score line at the end well that was right
When all was done
We turned out up the road
A solemn congregation in the dark
A workman in a railway yard
Asked me how we’ve gone on
I give the score and then there’s no more talk
Alighting from my bus
At Shakerley Lane
I walk that cobbled pathway to my home
Past Ellen Connelly’s farm
In those days there’s no harm
In walking in the darkness all alone
My family are there
When I get in
My Collie Bruce perhaps wondering where I’ve been
I’ve been on sacred pilgrimage
I’ve been on holy ground
And happy there
Even though we did not win
Brian Fahy
8 April 2021
Bolton Wanderers 0 Wolverhampton Wanderers 2
Wednesday 24 August 1960
Attendance: 20,132
Erris Poetry 