Fans Comment
A Shakespearian Drama Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The Red Hordes outrageous moment of fortune, Or to take arms against a doubting world, And by opposing, burnish Euro silver? To try: to win; Once more; and by winning to say we end The heartache and the thousand natural shocks That Blues are heir to, 'tis a Goodison consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To try, to win; To win: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; For in the European theatre what dreams may come When we have shuffled off the fields of play, Must give us pause: there's the wavering respect That makes calamity of such loyal blue support; For who would bear the whips and scorn of rule change, The red oppressor’s wrong, the proud man's contumely, The despised neighbours wail, UEFA officials delay, Their damn’d insolence of office rightly spurns The patient merit of the worthy takes, When the ginger man might his Euro quest make With sweet flowing movement. A man to be reckon’d, Inspiring belief under those European lights. But still we feel the dread of something to be lost, That undiscover'd country from whose bourn No team returns, a red puzzle that will Make us all bear those ills we have always known Than fly to another level that we know not of? Thus the red conscience doth make cowards of them all; And the native Royal blue hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale pink cast of doubt, Great Anfield moments of genius are in short supply With this regard their current fortune turns awry, And they fail in the name of justice. - Soft you now! The fair Beneathus! A numpty in thy orisons, Be all your sins remember'd. William Shakespeare - a Blue, obviously. Rob Hamilton Responses: "Fans Comment" articles are submitted by outside contributors to ToffeeWeb. The views contained therein may not correspond with those of the site owners. Editorial policy
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