I hear that whistle blowing

The match comes to an end;

The backs are disappointed – we fatboys just pretend;

That final 20 minutes just seemed to drag

We trudge towards the touchline

For a beer and fag.

My daddy came to watch me

He said, “I’m sorry son

I didn’t see you with the ball or even see you run”

I said “I never touch it, playing in the pack;

And as for girlie running –

We leave that to the backs.

So Grantham Grammar beat us

The memory’s painful still

They chalked up over 80 points – while our team chalked up nil;

Next week we vowed atonement and crossed their whitewash line

And scored three points against them

While they scored 69.

I hear that whistle blowing

The match comes to an end;

The backs are disappointed – we fatboys just pretend;

That final 20 minutes just seemed to drag

We trudge towards the touchline

For a beer and fag.