84 - 0
(Less an homage to Pam Ayres than downright plagerism)
I’d made the team – my dad he was so proud
He didn’t know the rules but cheered out loud
Though I was only 12 years old
I’d made the shirt of green and gold
But then the plan began to fold
84-0.
I remember this like it was yesterday
At Grantham Grammar on that fateful day
We were just 15 small boys
We knew what tactics they’d deploy
They looked like lorries in convoy
84-0.
We slugged it out with them with nothing in it
Until their opening score in the 3rd minute
And then began the one-way flood
We tried to stem them best we could
I heard my dad shout “Useless pud”
84-0.
Their danger man scored when he got the ball
You’d think he’d run right through the Berlin Wall
Holding on were four of us
He rumbled on without a fuss
Like a double decker bus
84-0.
We shipped no less than 27 tries
We shipped more tries than what we’d ordered pies
It wasn’t such a fun day
In Assembly on the Monday
When they read the score from Sunday
84-0.
The teachers stared distractedly in space
We shuffled with heads bowed in our disgrace
The school reviled us for our slough
The Head would giggle, joke and scoff
“They got some practice kicking off”
84-0.
We vowed atonement all the lads and me
Next match when we’d restore our dignity
We broke our duck – it was a sign
We scored 3 points and crossed their line
And let in only 69
69-3.
Cate Greenlees
Mon 4th Apr 2011 16:12
Orrrr....I hope your dad wasnt shouting "useless pud" at you! Somehow when youve played your heart out and lost with such a whopping score, words like "it doesnt matter if you win or lose but how you played the game" dont quite cut it!! I always find your work amusing John.
Cate xx