BALLOON GUY

 

The gender of a hot air balloon

Is distinctly male by definition

The obvious thing to compare

Is of course it’s full of hot air

And to get it to move even a little bit 

You have to light a fire under it

McPELE

 

Brazil Brazil is the Celtic chant

From the clan McCarlos and McCafu

Scotland's allies in the yellow and blue

Must defeat the Englishmen for you

I feel more pity than I feel contempt

Though not enough to shed a tear

What a truly sad existence you endure

No talented team of Scots to cheer

How sad and bitter you poor Celts are

Lacking a worthy team home grown

You must bathe in the reflected glory

Of greater nations than your own

PRIDE IN THE EAST

 

Travelling east to play the game
Not thought to set the world aflame
Making friends while you're away
Impressing with your football play
Pleasing critics with what they see
Though they call you England B
Well done the noble men in green
With Holland, Dunn and Robbie Keane
You've really done your country proud
Let them proudly sing your names aloud

THAT'S NOT CRICKET

 

Cricket is not my sport that I have to say
But the game appears to be in the doldrums
For me the most exiting part of the match
Are the barmy army beating their drums
They spread the event over five full days
In an effort to make it appear more fun
But if they want to make it more exciting
They should make them play tip and run

ENGLAND IN THE EAST World Cup 2002 Korea and Japan

In 2002 England were in the east

Intending to serve up a football feast

The ginger ninja’s were in control

Butt and Scholes in the midfield role

Campbell, Southgate and Ferdinand at the back

Owen, Heskey, Fowler and Vassel in attack

In goal David seaman with his ponytail

Praise be to the English hero’s hail

By example Beckham driving on his team

In vein pursuit of the world cup dream

In the end we just weren’t good enough

Beaten by a lucky Brazil goal to make it tough

SPORTY WIFE

 

Now I keep telling my wife

No matter what she may have thought

In no way shape or form

Can shopping be considered a sport

IT’S A FUNNY OLD GAME

 

Every Saturday it’s the same old story

With are mates we bathe in the reflected glory

As our heroes play the beautiful game

We sing and cheer and chant their names

They get at them early doors in attack

A Drag back and he’s skinned the fullback

What skill he’s left the fullback for dead

The strikers there and wants it on his head

He heads the ball but no it’s hit the frame

The crowd all chant the strikers name

Another attack, Pass & move Give & go

The home teams putting on a great show

The ball comes to the striker as planned 

But what a save it’s in the keeper’s hands

Again, the ball comes to Johnny on the spot

He shoots did it go in? Was it a goal or not?

No goals and the last minute, one more chance

The fullback is passed like he’s in a trance

The balls in the middle and shot against the bar

The striker has an open goal he misses by far

We boo and jeer and chant their names

The striker is pants and it’s a funny old game

NONSENSICAL EPISODE # 1

 

Living life in cartoons

A happy life in Looney tunes

Incomprehensible croons

Beneath silvery moons

Shooting at pink balloons

With captain Ahab’s harpoons

Spending Sunday afternoons

Chatting with baboons

Playing cricket in the dunes

With chipmunks and raccoons

Eating out of date prunes

With runsible spoons

 

GAME OF LIFE

 

What I want to know is why it is that

Now I have become one of the old farts

And I’m finally holding all the cards

Everyone else decides to play darts

HARE COURSING

 

On the whole,

No pun intended,

It was a pleasant day

On the Golf course

The sun was warm

The wind was light

The golf was

A mixture of the sublime

And the ridiculous

A day of ups and downs

As my scorecard testified

But the par 4 15^th

Was a different story

I had hit a crisp drive

From the elevated tee

And away it flew

Straight down the middle

As Bing once sang

It landed just short of the dog leg

Kicked to the right

And rolled perfectly round the turn

After such a shot

You feel ten feet tall

As you stride down the fairway

And I felt every inch of it

When I reached my ball

I found it sitting up invitingly

And with an unhindered path to the green

I had a birdie chance.

Slightly ahead and to the right

A rather large Rabbit,

Was enjoying the afternoon sun

Blissfully unaware of what was to come

I selected my club

And addressed the ball

“Just hit it straight”

I told myself

I swung the club towards the ball

In a perfect ark

But I must have lifted my head

Because there was and ugly contact

And the ball sliced away

In the direction of the Rabbit

Now had he just stayed still

He would have lived

But alas at the sound of the sliced contact

The Rabbit leapt vertically in the air

Straight into the path of the ball

And died instantly

Now looking back, I could have claimed

That the Rabbit put me off

But it didn’t really

If the ball had followed its path

I would have been out of bounds

So, the Rabbit sacrificed himself

To save my par

A GAME OF ARRA’S

Me and some friends

Fancied a game of darts

I said, “Nearest the bull

To see who starts”

Johnny went “Woof”

And I went “Baah”

Then Danny went “Moo”

He was the closest by far