16/02/2026
Cae Ras Rising
At the Maes Gwyn the pints aflow,
Wrexham Lager - the finest on show.
A Rich Watkin kebab, the posh variety,
While Matt Carroll plays, we lose sobriety.
The space alive with song and cheer,
That matchday feeling is definitely here.
Time to move, we’ve got fifteen minutes,
Down Mold Road, tryin’ to find our tickets.
The Lager Stand, the paddock near,
Faces eager, kick-offs here.
Scarves held high, the moment calls,
The Cae Ras singing, proud and tall.
“Hymns and Arias”, a choir so grand,
Thousands of voices across the stand.
Each game a struggle, heart on show,
With every tackle the passions grow.
“We’re never gonna die”, the anthem sounds,
“Puttin’ on a show”, there are no bounds.
Arthur in goal, with giant’s hands,
Solid at the back, where Maxi stands.
Doyle with youth, Hyam with guile,
Kabore’s pace runs half a mile.
Libby on the wing, with pace to burn,
Crosses in so sharp, the forwards turn
Anchoring play, the immense Ben Sheaf,
O’Brien’s sharp pass is beyond belief.
Windass and Broadhead feel the roar,
Supplying the Welsh wonder, Kieffer Moore.
The chance will come, the ground will sing,
And joy across the Racecourse ring.
A pin point cross, it’s headed in,
The Racecourse erupts with an enormous din.
“Carneval de Paris” is sung out loud,
The crowd shout “Wrexham”, ecstatically proud.
A moment shared, a rising tide,
The songs of victory amplified.
When the whistle fades, the stories flow,
In the Turf where the faithful go.
And Hill Street Social, glasses raised high,
The finest lagers ‘neath Wrexham’s sky.
The night rolls on, the voices stay,
Red passion burns day by day.
The Declan Swans told of times gone by,
The rusty stand demolished with a sigh.
But the new Kop rises, proud and grand,
Built from the strength of a working land.
Ruabon brick with a fiery hue,
The heart of Wrexham, strong & true.
11th September 2025 Christian McCale.
