For all Blackburn Rovers fans today is the day we remember the passing of the great Jack Walker. It coincides with the early moves of the takeover by a man from India, who now lives in Bahrain and Switzerland who we know nothing about. I've written a business piece about it on the Insider In Focus blog.
But someone on the Rovers Mad site has found the poem written 10 years ago that was read out at Ewood at the following home game.
Uncle Jack's Poem.
I have never written a poem before; I don't see any point in rhyme.
It never appeals to us working class; It's just a waste of time.
Well now is a bit different, I need to tell you how I feel.
And in some small way pay tribute to the Blackburn man of steel.
It's vital not to miss the point; football is not a bit of fun.
It's pride and passion, skill and strength all rolled into one.
It's not about Man Utd, Chelsea and some foreign fancy Dan.
It's Blackburn, Preston, Burnley, that's where it all began.
Where what you see is what you get, but don't show how you feel.
But I'm making my exception for the Blackburn man of steel.
I really need to thank him for the pride he gave us back.
Just for a while we were the best, thanks to Uncle Jack.
Few people have the vision to make a dream come true.
For the beauty of Jack Walker's was - we got an invite too.
Some saw him as a rich old man who bought a winning team
But for me they miss the point; he bought us all our dream.
I think it's maybe true to say it could not last forever
But then again I'm certain that it's better once than never
And even if those winning ways never do come back
They can't take away the memories, thanks to Uncle Jack.
Hendry, Sutton, Batty, Shearer, the names roll of the tongue
But "There's only one Jack Walker" is still the Rovers' song.
So forget the players' agents in their smart Armani suits,
And raise a glass to Uncle Jack, a man who knew his roots.