I was one of those who saw Henrik make his debut as a substitute away to Hibs. This poem details that inauspicious start and the following glorious reign of the most beloved player of the last decade. The poem also gave me a chance to lash out at the legion of numpties who wore the green and white during the dark days of the nineties. There was a perverse pleasure to be taken in heading up to places like Dens Park to watch ninety minutes of garbage but have a ball in singing your heart out for two hours. Eh – the youngsters of today – they don’t know they’re born. I’m off to rub goose fat on my rickets whilst you can enjoy my paean to the King of Kings.
HENRIK LARSSON
It seems like only yesterday
That Henrik joined the Celts to play
We’d seen our share of hopeless men
Who’d shamed the Hoops and left again
The struggle lost – these shirts for hire
Would leave our Celtic in the mire
We needed men of strength and fight
We hoped the Club had chosen right
So off to Easter Road we went
To see the man on whom Wim spent
A paltry sum to give the Dutch
For Celtic didn’t have that much
It wasn’t great – if truth be known
For Henrik gave some cause to moan
With time still left he made a pass
It found a Hibee on the grass
A Celtic fan: such irony!
Chick Charnley lashed it in with glee.
The sun shone down, we did our best
But did our Bhoy just fail the test?
Now little did the legions know
This man would give us all a show
From this most inauspicious start
We took the Swedish Bhoy to heart
If mighty oaks from acorns grow
We reaped what Blessed Henrik sowed
For born from Henrik’s debut game
Would spring a legend worth the name
The King of Kings, for it is he
Is loved by all the hooped army
For seven years he did us proud
The number seven of the crowd
He made opponents look like dross
(His ball sailed sweetly over Klos)
His pace, his drive, his quality
Could lift the hearts of all who’d see
The Bhoys and Ghirls embraced this gift
He’d given all the Club a lift
But then the time it came to go
He gave his all – and more you know
The fans will always sing his name
For years to come we’ll shout the same
He more than earned each penny paid
His memory will never fade
In years to come, when we grow old
We’ll tell our kin of players bold
Of players they weren’t born to see
Who wore the green for you and me
But though the years will pass and more
We’ll not forget whom we adore
For Henke means far more than most
He gave us pride and cause to boast
We love so dear what fortune brings
God save you Henrik – King of Kings