Limavady United

The Roe Valley Hum

Not where the floodlights blazeiest burn, Nor where the trophies loudly gleam, But where the Roe River winds its turn, Lies Limavady United’s dream.

No polished pitch of pristine sheen, Just honest turf, sometimes a bog, Where passion outweighs the scheme Of miles and money, slick and fog.

They pull on red and white, not for the fame, But for the hill, the town, the name – For Auchynslope and Coolessan’s grace, For Dungiven’s cheer and Ballykelly’s face. It’s not the glory of the big crowd’s roar, But the lad who shouts until his voice is sore, The thermos passed, the shared meat pie, Beneath the same old, changeable sky.

They’ll fight for every inch of ground, Where puddles mirror winter’s grey, Yet hope springs warm and stubborn-proud, Like crocuses that dare the day. No guarantee of silverware, Just honest graft and heart laid bare – A tackle fierce, a clearing kick, A moment where the clicks turn quick.

So here’s to you, the Valleymen, Who play not for the celebrity, But for the stitch in jersey and the then And now of Roe Valley’s legacy. May your boots find grip on every sod, And may your spirit, fierce and shod, Carry you onwards, game by game – Limavady United: play your name.