Match Report V Warninglid   By Sam Ayers

 

The mighty greys have hit a rut five losses on the trot

Dave’s lost the matrix,Dels on holiday,skips not happy with his lot

Terry’s back he missed last week,kidney stones that passed through penis

But to not inform Biff til Sunday morn a crime considered heinous.

 

We arrive at the lid and Biff goes out and great he’s won the toss

The vibes are good we know we can win,today wont be a loss

Rob opens up he’s the main man runs in with a skip and a hop

He beats the bat then finds the edge oh Ian not a drop.

 

It’s been a problem for a while we just cant hold our catches

And as we cricketers all know you have to to win matches

We drop and drop and drop and drop its like being at a rave

But Jerry takes three that’s good to see but not one of them off Dave.

 

Alan patrols the boundary like a centurion on guard

He chases,fields and throws that cricket ball so hard

Ibu bowls well and so does Ben and Richard he bags three

And from the boundary his father watches, a proud man he must be.

 

The scoreboard read 184 and now its time for tea

Rob needs to know the batting order is roid Fenton batting three?

So off we go the chase is on we know we cant be tardy

Today’s the day for Boycott and Gooch but often its more Laurel and Hardy.

 

Twelve off the first over, we are in the game and Jerry’s looking good

It has been know that in the past he’s given me good wood

But wickets fall and we need to score we fall behind the rate

Out comes Dave determined not to bowl through the gate.

 

A four, a six this could be on we might just not get beat

The rain comes down its heavy its time for a hasty retreat

In the end we aint good enough shake hands a leave the pitch

Seventy odd run short in our chase this game can be a bitch.

 

Not all is lost its back to base for banter and lots of beer

I’ve dropped one of those funny pills I’m feeling rather queer

The game is forgot we are having fun its been a long hard day

Rob and Ian arm in arm are you two turning gay?

 

And that’s the thing we all do care but it really doesn’t matter

Oh Sarah’s text its time to go I’m eating fanny batter.