Wee Dennis is Deid
by
Stewart Robertson
Stewart edits an ex-HMI publication called Taking the Register.
"Two years after the photo mentioned in the poem below, Dennis Law signed professionally for Huddersfield Town for £4 a week. The club paid for the operation that cured his squint. Till then he’d played matches with one eye closed. He is generally reckoned to be the best player who ever played for Scotland. He died on 17th January 2025. My Uncle Jimmy was one of those teachers who spent his whole teaching career in a single school. "
The photograph above is of Dennis Law (centre) with George Best and Bobby Charlton outside Old Trafford.
Nineteen years, each pencil, square,
screwdriver an’ pliers, he coontit oot;
an’ each, he coootit in.
‘Wee Dennis is deid’ –
that’s whit he’d hae seid,
ma Uncle Jimmy,
shakin’ his heid.
Jimmy, proud fir a’ his lads,
massive an’ RAF-mowsered,
in a photo grainy, a teacher whaur,
to send students, the authority widna daur.
Bottom row, a rail-thin loon,
straightjacketed airms an’ bare knees crossed;
he sits on shoes, twice-handed-doon.
‘Cock-eye’, they ca’ed him, but nae to his face;
a pugnacious lad, fitba-mad, an’ precocious wi’ it –
tho’ stracht wisna whit he saw.
If whaur ye’ve bin isna owerly braw,
twa fingers up tae tinks wha think success far fae feasible.
Goals are differently achievable.
Dennis’ finger will aye stab the sky.
Jimmy, heist yer ain finger.
Haud it high.