They rained a full songbook down on those arms-folded in red and white below them; of tequila, cool fathers and Boxing Day Massacres. A midfielder better than Zidane got a mention, so too the chap who put the ball in Zak and Mandy’s net. They bounced and for a good while, they were in Hawaii. But it was with 10 minutes to go that their lungs truly burst to the whiles of Jeff Beck. It can be a song sung in a range of emotions by the Owls’ travelling support, in heart-broken defiance, in sorrow... Read this story
