We need your help my mates had said
so at crack of dawn I left my bed.
I raised myself from that tempting pillow
leaving my dreams of leather on willow.
I raced around to finish my chores
then carefully left for the great outdoors.
Ninety minutes in a crowded bus
and then I was met with friendly fuss.
Off to the pavilion so that, out of sight
I could don the garments clean and white.
Then outside where a tossed coin revealed
who would bat and who would field.
Our luck was in and so were we
so two went out whilst I drank tea.
Slowly our score crept ever higher
without any appeal to the umpire.
When the fortieth over was over
it looked as if our team was in clover.
two hundred and five the score to beat
the opposition were headed for defeat.
But still they played like men possessed
with vim and vigour and plenty of zest.
Their scoring strokes were going quite well
Although the occasional wicket still fell.
But we were determined we would not yield
and madly chased each ball across the field.
Then six balls left and six still to score.
Things were tight and our hopes did soar.
Five balls gone and the over still maiden
the opposition's hearts were heavily laden.
The final ball was given a mighty clout
but I ran fast to catch him out.
I reached out one despairing hand
I caught the ball as if it had been planned.
The bowler gave a mighty cry
whilst I could only stand and sigh.
Though no one else had a very good view
I was there and alas I knew
That though the praises could easily be mine
I knew for a fact, I'd been over the line.
My team mates thought no runs were scored
yet I knew there should be a six on the board.
I knew I could be the hero of them all.
But I had to confess where I caught the ball.
The match was over and my team had lost,
and I thought about what it had cost.
Yet I knew I would have felt much more sad
had I not made the choice I had.
Adding your comment:
AND I'm completely of the booze 
'.
for the nice comment and the touching faith that I would have done the right thing. I can only hope I would but I fear it will never happen.
). I was looking at a poem by one of my favourites (Wandika) entitled Sailing Ships when I realised it was part of a competition and whilst reading the competition rules the idea was suddenly there. 
