Golf is a mental game
And I don’t mean
cerebral
You have to hit down
To make the ball go
up.
You swing left and
The ball goes right
The lowest score wins.
And if that’s not mad
enough,
The winner buys the
drinks.
But if you get a hole in one
You buy the whole bar
a drink
Give me Golf clubs, fresh air
And partner beautiful and fair
And to be honest you can keep
The Golf clubs and the fresh air
A paraphrasing of one of the great Jack Benny’s gags
He was flicking channels between Golf and porn
So, he asked his wife “Which one should I watch eh?”
“For Heaven's sake, watch the porn” she snapped
“My Olympic condoms have arrived”
A husband told his
wife excitedly
“I think I’ll wear
gold tonight” he said
And her shoulder’s
slumped resignedly
“I would rather you
wore silver and came
second for a change”
she replied sweetly
I was retired and played quite a lot of Golf
I teed off hoping for a good round ahead
And had the intention of shooting my age,
But unfortunately, I shot my weight instead
A paraphrasing of one of the great Bob Hope’s gags
“What is your exercise regime?”
I was asked by my new
personal trainer
I said if I already
had a regime
I wouldn’t need a
personal trainer
Great Britain were invited
To the Belgium town of Mons
For the sun tanning Olympics
And the whole team got Bronze
I fell about laughing when I saw Serena
In an ironic
Advertisement for Tempur
As given her recent
display of stress
It should have been a “bad
Tempur” mattress
Car Football is actually a thing
And some people think it’s cute
But I don’t think cars should play
Because they only had one boot
My girlfriend loves horses and
All things Shakespearian
And she says “To be or not to be
A horse rider, that is equestrian”
One of the football spectators
Obstructed the keeper’s view
By standing between the posts
When you are at
Wimbledon
And you order a cheese
baguette
The filling will most
likely be,
Given the location,
Tennis Raclette
I have great admiration
For athletic
competitors
But you’ve got to hand
it
To those relay runners
The Woking star Striker
Went down in the box
It was his wife’s
birthday
So it was not
unorthodox
It was a glorious week in June
And I wore my best
ensemble
But after Day three at
Wimbledon
I hadn’t seen a single
Womble
Gold, Silver or Bronze
That is the obvious
question
What hue will his
urine be
When they test the
Russian
The ref booked him for
Taking his shirt off
As it’s against the
rules
To take the refs shirt
off
At his first equestrian event
And he thought he was
seeing a mirage
All the horses looked
effeminate
But it turned out to
be the dressage
I went to my doctor today with a rash
While suffering acute
anxiety, because
Of a plan my Cricket
team were hatching
I suspected they were
about to drop me
Because my nickname
was butterfingers
Its ok though as what
I've got isn’t catching
The transfer window is open
Which is very exciting for fans like me
Especially when I’ve just heard
Foghorn Leghorn has signed for KFC
I’m a really keen cricket fan and
This summer I’ve watched it everyday
But now it’s over and I have discovered
That my wife left me back in May
At his first equestrian event
And he thought he was
seeing a mirage
The campest parade
ring he’d ever seen
Turned out to be the
dressage
Car Football is actually a thing
If not to everyone’s
desire
Nonetheless the car
was in
The dressing room,
changing attire
If you are a City fan
Keep silent if you can
As you stand at Old Trafford
As silence falls in accord
Please don’t speak out
Please don’t scream or shout
Acknowledge the silence
For those who lived once
Don’t think about the “Babes”
Cold and dead in the carnage
If hatred in your heart and head
Stops you honouring United’s dead
Give your silence as a gift
In remembrance of Frank Swift
Broken in he twisted wreckage
The victims of Munich’s
winter carnage
Crashing in the snow
and ice
There would have to be
a fearful price
And when the bill was finally
reckoned
Death’s reaper grimly
beckoned
Towards the twenty-three
poor souls
That appeared on his
fearsome rolls
Young men cut down in
their prime
Older ones who thought
they’d more time
Were all taken from
that grisly place
To feel the breath of heaven
on their face
Taking the souls who
died in the snow
To where the innocents
and the heroes go
In those brief moments,
Jimmy was happy,
On top of the world.
He had reached the
pinnacle
Wales in the World Cup
Finals
United in the European
semis
Life was good
Life was very good
indeed
Then the news came
Of a crash in the snow
And suddenly
Life wasn’t so good.
Information,
Patchy at first
Trickled in,
Not all reliable
Miss information
Spread like the
plague,
Then the facts emerged
From amongst the
fictions
So many dead
So many lost
And for the living
Life would never be
the same
Jimmy blamed himself
For being so smug
For being so happy
For being alive
The young lads played the game
The Busby Babes was their
name
Though they played
like magic
They embraced tragedy
in Munich
Their plane crashing
in the snow
The wreckage burning
all aglow
Eight of their
magnificent number
Would not see another
summer
The Busby Babes were sublime
The best by far in
their time
And when eight of
their number
Went to their eternal
slumber
They went straight to
heaven
To join St Peters
first XI
Morgans and Blanchflower
Never played again
Some played to soon
Some could never play
the same
Some were cast aside
Some fulfilled their
destiny
But none were
unscathed
After the tragedy
Those who remained
Of the team Busby
built
All survived the
horror
But lived with the
guilt
Young heroes returning
From a far-off foreign
field
With hard fought
victory won
Where the valiant
refused to yield
Like heroes from
Homers Iliad
Exalted in the legends
But in the Germanic
snows
The heroes journey
ends
As the Gods of winter
struck
Fire and ice took its
toll
And the names were
duly writ
Upon an eternal honour
roll
Geoff Bent, Roger
Byrne (Capt)
Duncan Edwards, Billy
Whelan
David Pegg, Tommy
Taylor
Mark Jones and Eddie
Colman
In the wake of tragedy
Harry Gregg arose
From the snow
And twisted wreckage
With no thought of himself
Pulled survivors
From the burning plane
Assisted latterly
By Bill Foulkes,
Another heroic figure.
Though Harry thought
His actions unremarkable
On that cold February day
George best, said of him
“Bravery is one thing,
But what Harry did
Was about more than bravery,
It was about goodness”
Now the Hero of Munich
Has left us to mourn his passing
As he has gone to join the Babes
But he lives on in the legend
HARRY GREGG OBE - (27th October 1932 – 16th February 2020)
Go now Harry
Lay down your keepers’
gloves
You’ve earned your
rest
Our tower of strength
Straight backed
Rugged and dependable
Hero of Munich
Take your place
Among your equals
And be at peace
Your strong
Oft betrayed
By sadness in your
eyes
The sadness of
survival
So, go now Harry
And join the Babes
The band of brothers
You’ve missed so much
And take your place
Among immortals
At Old Trafford
In tragedies wake
In the eerie quiet
The terraces echoed
The mournful silence
And even the empty
Seats shed tears
For The busby babes
