The boyhood Hero He wasnae famous or weel kent His name didnae shine in ony lights Nae papers telt o’ the money spent When he came to grace Dens Park Thanks to the crackle o’ the radio My idolatry began to grow In the cup against Brora he scored To that wee boys deelight I’d never even been to a game I tried and tried and tried in vain For that tragedy, my mum’s to blame Though still I love her so It was in the days goalies wore no gloves Drinkers galore in busy pubs Mother said it was far too rough Normally she was annoyingly right But this day I was to be allowed To become a true Dee, wee and proud To be all-consumed by the raucous crowd Such was the importance of this day The 2nd of May in 81 was the date A championship game was at stake Under the coat o’ my dad’s mate Was the auspicious way I got in There he was tall, slim and fair I’d say he was recognisable by his flair What others say I couldn’t care HE was the player for me He rose up to score the only goal I screamed deelight as the crowd did roar I couldn’t have asked for anything more That day remains forever to me a dream Conditions perfect they later said on TV From hazy memory I can only agree As the mighty, glorious and famous Dee Went on that day to promotion win The crowd invaded without a care There he was, the one, the only ERIC SINCLAIR Lifted up, I stretched to touch his hair A perfect day indeed!
