He joined his local football team, he scored in every game
And League scouts on the touchline would be asking, What's his name?
They marvelled at his twists and turns, they loved to watch his runs.
The only thing he couldn't do was score from one-on-ones.
He signed for Stevenage Borough and he set their team alight.
But the Conference couldn't hold this man of skill and power and might.
With others undecided, Rovers swooped to land their prey
And we made it to the play-offs with that vital goal in May.
And now our Baz has gone away, no longer will we see
The silky runs, his joyous smile, his innate modesty.
Yes, all good things come to an end, we wish him all the best.
But next time we play Fulham, Barry, could you take a rest?
A C ASHTON 18th November 1998
What I had not foreseen
Was this tragic day
Saying goodbye to Barry
Fading the brightness away,
When Fulham got in touch
The leaving of Mister Barry
Was shock before pain,
Two million? Unsubstantial.
The passing of time,
And the watching of heartbroken Gas
With fans asking questions
In their sad state,
The bewildering grief
Melting the chances of success
The sick feeling inside us -
This, I could not forsee.
For I had expected always
Some brightness to hold onto,
Someone like our Barry
To keep just for us;
Yet, contract solid,
Would mean nothing at all;
Like the sun setting
Baz will dazzle no more.
SUE ASHTON With apoligies to Sir Stephen Spender