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A most eventful summer

We don't know why we're going, since we've won before the start
Though one or two of us are getting old
The English press abuse us, just to give their players heart
It helps to get a million copies sold
With Warney bowling magic McGrath to lead the pack
The English team will soon be on its knees
We needn't even mention we've got Lee in our attack
Who doesn't ever hear his victims pleas

It's off to Lord's to start the tests, they never beat us there
Though Harmison soon blows away our best
McGrath can more than match him only Pietersen looks fair
Our second knock looks sure to win the test
The Pommies ask the rain gods if they'll help them save the day
The only chance the lousy lot have got
McGrath and Warne just knock them down when we get out to play
An easy win to stir the Ashes pot

McGrath trod on a cricket ball, he misses number two
But Ponting sticks the Pommies in to bat
And all out on the first day ought to be the greatest start
But England had four hundred before that
One hundred lead then Warne is on and we have got a chance
Just have to keep our heads and bat it out
We've bloody nearly made it you should see old Warney dance
Then Kaspro gets a glove and hear them shout!

Old Trafford, Warne's six hundredth and we very nearly lose
McGrath was back we knew that we would win
But Vaughan was looking comfy like a pair of well worn shoes
Another load of runs are in the bin
Though Warney gets a ninety Simon Jones is on the case
And England have a lead that they can use
Young Strauss knocks up a hundred and we're running round the place
Until the final ball we're sure to lose

It's Flintoff's turn to flay us and we have to follow on
That's not a thing that Aussies often do
The second time around we played more nearly like the Don
We had to hope out bowlers had a clue
They very nearly did it but it wasn't meant to be
Flintoff and Pietersen did just enough
Warne almost got us winning with his usual mystery
To win against these odds was just too tough

The Oval in September and the ball is in our court
But Strauss and Flintoff seem to think it's theirs
Why did we go for bad light in this most frustrating sport
The England fans were laughing in their chairs
Dad's Army's on the telly and the old guys always win
But strange to tell it isn't so in life
The rains curtailed the cricket, celebrations can begin
We're heading home to face a load of strife!!!




Author notes

cricketjeff: (The English papers told us we had players like Dad's army.

OK so which series did you think I would write about???

In a list

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Comments

1 - 8 of 8

  • moonbumps silver member
    July 18

    Edit | Reply
    I think you should start winning 'googlies' instead of trophies!!!!! Well deserved the bronze!
    xxx Bumpy


  • Roaddog Wolf gold member
    July 18

    Edit | Reply

    Not real familiar with the game of crickett

    however this poem gave me an air of sport much like American Baseball. Reminded me of the poem "Casey at the Bat". I enjoyed the read it was well written thanks for sharing.


  • Thomas Scott gold member
    July 18

    Edit | Reply

    oh, cricket

    I thought you took the name of tiny, leg-rubbing, noisy little insect.
    Imagine my surprise.
    I'm sure it's an excellent poem though I have no idea who's on first, even.


  • Mairi bheag gold member
    July 18

    Edit | Reply
    OK, now do one about the England Women's 2008 Ashes victory in Oz, and in particular about my heroines Isa Guha and Claire Taylor.

    Not bad.

    Make sure Lyndon sees this!


  • Cannonsfire silver member
    July 17
    Edit | Reply
    LMAO!!! Of course the one you guys won, cos the last series was your disaster and not ours... and as if I didn't know that would happen!!!! But its worth it because it is simply brilliant Love, C


    • cricketjeff gold member
      July 17

      Edit | Reply
      8 lines for 5 days is tough but I tried to get all the main events in
      with a 2 run win and a last ball test it was a summer worth a ballad. And if you care at all the form is a favourite of mine an "Extended ballad measure" alternating lines of iambic heptameter and pentameter.
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