Cricket DudesThe theme for this week’s JVG Radio Method is “CARNIVAL”. Seems ready made for a quick return to the Neighbourhood” and Pig, Rabbit and Squirrel. The lengths some people will go to to get a day off.

Click here for today’s poem [audio:JVG_Poem20090322.mp3]

Today I  have Dan Warner more than ably assisting us on guitar during Ed Bates absence.  He does rather a nic job of it I think.

Ed had a paying gig.


Carnival

“The purpose of cricket” “Pig” Mills expounded with his customary air of pretension
“The purpose of cricket is to fill in the time between failing exams and detention”

“It’s designed to be boring” he added, then paused to devour a cream bun and drink
“Designed to keep us off the streets and encourage our brains not to think”

“It’s worked in your case” scoffed “Rabbit” McGory “The wheel turns but the guinea pig’s dead”
But “Pig” was too busy reading the notice board to pay attention to what “Rabbit” said

“Under 16’s Cricket Carnival” – “Pig” read it twice to be sure
A whole week off school – “Pig” salivated – a chance too good to ignore

Interest was high; competition was tough, as they sorted the curds from the cream
Cricket went from a chore to a passion as they’d vied for the last spot on the team

“Squirrel” Tyrrell on his day was dangerous with bat though his bowling was under a cloud
Lindy Dent was the neighbourhood’s best all rounder but typical – girls weren’t allowed

To everyone’s amazement “Pig” was selected – couldn’t bat, couldn’t bowl, couldn’t catch
But when it came to the mystical art of sledging – none living or dead were his match

His selection caused furore, “An insult to cricket “- but the coaches stuck to their guns
In the opening match “Pig” sledged them four wickets and his team scraped home by two runs

For once “Pig” didn’t mind homework – he’d pounce on any weakness like a jackal
He even snuck into the opposition change rooms – to check out the size of their tackle

“Soft Cock”, “Pencil Dick” and far, far worse – vitriol I’m not willing to share
If I was to quote that gutter mouthed moron – frankly, I’d be pulled off the air

Religion, colour, physical features and anything else you could name
Winning was all – nothing was sacred – anything he could use was fair game

Titled himself a “Verbal Technician” – an exploiter of sensitivities and fears
His barbs carefully cast to pinpoint a nerve – he had one opening batsmen in tears

His conscience vacated to make room for his ego – caring nought for how others might feel
Arrogance blinding the little judgement he had – oblivious to his own Achilles heal

Came the day of the final, one ball to go and their opponents needed one run to win
The captain moved “Pig” in close, to short leg – to get right under the batsman’s skin

The bowler tossed it up in the block hole – the batsman gave it all he was worth
He screamed “Catch that lard arse” as the ball disappeared in the lower half of “Pigs” ample girth

Completely enveloped by a layer of fat – there’s nothing about that in the rules
The captain pleaded “Hold on to it “Piggy” – but “Pig” was holding onto his jewels

The ball stayed encased for what seemed like forever – then dropped out from under a roll
They appealed for the catch but the umpire ruled “Pig” didn’t have the ball under control

The batsmen rejoiced as “Pig” writhed in pain – and they served up one parting dig
“Hey Sweet Lips we’ve decided to rename you “Deliverance” cause we reckon you squeal like a pig”

Life is a carnival – a merry-go-round, and it grinds some into submission
Even today if you play “Duelling Banjos” “Pig” curls up in a foetal position

It wouldn’t be the last time his mouth got him in trouble – but “Pig” had learnt nothing from failure
If only he’d been born thirty years later – who knows – he might have played for Australia

© Copyright 2009 Ian Bland

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