There’s entertainment
There’s politics
There’s popular culture
There’s dialectics
But never the twain shall meet
Never the twain shall meet
This is a myth, propagated by the bourgeois wordsmiths
Who never put a ball in the back of the net
Who never padded up or picked up a bat
Who never spent an afternoon watching their sport
Never saw the bosses quietly taking over
Never saw the stadiums, terraces, arenas
Bought off, remodeled by G plan designers
Sold off and ripped off by company directors
All these so called “revolutionaries”
Who are too busy with the uprising to see what’s going on
Will be shocked to discover that at this very moment
Ron Pickering is preparing a crack squad of Proles
Too liberate our sport from its capitalist oppressors
In tracksuits and trainers, the rising of the masses!

Knight to Bishop 4
Next move in the cold war
In the Spassky/Fischer battle
To see who rules the castle
Spassky takes Hungary (and Czecks)
Fischer takes Grenada
Russian tanks to Afghanistan
U.S. Pawns to Viet Nam
But it’s Spassky rebellion
A Fischer uprising
The pawns have taken over
And overthrown the king

That golden era
That golden era
David Bedford, Georgie Best
Olga Korbutt, Eddie Mercx
Tony Jacklin, Jochen Rindt
Ille Nastase, Rachael Flint
Gary Player, Clive Lloyd
Bobby Fischer, Virginia Wade
Eusabio, Alan Knott
Valeri Borzov, Lillian Bord
Lasse Viren, Barry Sheene
Alan Pascoe, Billy Jean King
Franz Klammer, Johann Cruyff
Rivelino, Brian Clough?
That golden era
That golden era
That golden era

Cut and clipped to make you sleek
Whipped and brushed from stall to track
Laden down with heavy pack
Or carrying rider on your back
And finally your neck is broken
Pushed too hard at Beeches Brook
I’ll bet, I’ll bet
Thirteen to one
Thirteen to one
And the damage done

It’s all about getting the ball in the back of the net, Brian
I’m as sick as a parrot, Brian
I’m over the moon, Brian
Well, I think the lads were well worth a point, Brian
At the end of the day, Brian
It was a game of two halves, Brian

The little leagues, the spare-time sports
Works teams and pub teams
Sandwiches for the darts competition
Oranges at half time
Spare time tennis, scrambling on fields
Hustle and bustle for the love of the game
Jack high for the local bowls match
Winners and losers, all much the same
But there’s a bloke been hanging around
Technical improvements, capital gains
Investment plans, advertising space
He’s come to put an end to the fun and games
Come to put an end to the fun and games
Come to put an end to the fun and games

How come all the best athletes
Had the poshest kits
While the slow, fat, thin, and spotty ones
Had shorts that didn’t fit?
They never lingered in the changing rooms
With a home-made note
Or batted only once
Before they got caught
And how come all the sporty types
Were the first to grow breasts?
They had Marks & Sparks bras
I squirmed in a vest
Never wore their sisters’ shorts
With the wrong initial
Or limped back from cross-country
Two hours behind schedule
And how come they said
That games were fun?
If you want the truth
Ask the ones that never won

From the heights of Montezuma to the shores of Sicily
From the rainplains of Africa
Across the shining sea
From the East to the West
From the rainforests to the dustbowls
It’s bigger than Jesus
Bigger than Rock & Roll
What is it?
Sport!
You can love it or loathe it
But you can’t get away from it
It’s played, watched, and talked about all over the world
From the backstreets of Naples
To the docklands of Hull
It’s bigger than Jesus
Bigger than Rock & Roll
What is it?
Sport!
Livingstone and Stanley were sitting in a hut
In the African jungle, talking and stuff
About how they’d discovered this big continent
How they’d dared to go where no-one else went
When out of the bush came this skinny little kid
And what was he wearing? A Liverpool strip!
He had an NFL helmet and some brand new cricket boots
A packet of questions from Trivial Pursuit
Q: What happened when Rugby Union minnows Shirley Wanderers went to Twickenham?
A: They stole a set of goal posts after an international!

She’s a slip of a girl to be out of school
She’s a product of apartheid
She won her spurs under minority rule
She’s a product of apartheid
Afrikaners run the best
In bare feet and British vest
“She’s a slip of a girl but at least she’s white”
“She’s a slip of a girl but at least she’s white”

Business bought the athletes out
With gold medals and role models
Drugs and media and national pride
Why join in when you can watch it on TV?
So out of the stadiums!
Into the hills!
Out of the armchairs!
Onto the fells!
Staggering through mud and peat
Gasping breaths and sucked-in cheeks
Bogs like lead to clutch your feet
Through the rivers, over peaks
So out of the stadiums!
Into the hills!
Out of the armchairs!
Onto the fells!
Studmarks next to summit heather
Everything suddenly comes together
No audience viewing-figures
Just you against yourself
So out of the stadiums!
Into the hills!
Out of the armchairs!
Onto the fells!