Police men grab the young boys forcing them to the ground. They stand proud, strong and tower over the bodies of the boys. The older officer grabs the lad’s scarf, throwing it to the side and spits on it.
Hatred fills his eyes as he forces the boys face to the ground and he lays there, lifeless and accepts his hands being took from him.
He is silent and does not utter a word whilst he is worked like a puppet by the officer, throwing him around.
A hooligan he is named. For the songs he sings and the colours he wears.