For the most splendid
Summer of sport
We should thank Lord
Coe
And all the
ambassadors
All the games makers
And the volunteers
We should thank the
armed forces
For stepping into the
breech
Technicians and
officials
All the competitors
For performing to
their best
And the spectators
Just for being there
And last but by no
means least
For their foresight
All those years ago
In clearing the
Olympic site
We say a big thank you
To the German
Luftwaffe
The Essex Games
Begin next year
For the Essex folk
Who will appear
In manmade fibres
And gaudy splendour
To watch the best of
them
In their endeavours
When Dave and Chelsea
Shazza and Baz
Will perform for us to
watch
In such events as
Copping a strop
Vagazaling
The stiletto 100m
And the bling
Throwing a tantrum
The Alco pop crawl
The face dive
And the ungraceful
fall
As yet the events list
Is relatively small
Unless you can suggest
Anything at all?
Well now the Paralympics are over
The call is coming
loud and clear
To accommodate those
unfortunates
Whose disadvantages
were just too severe
For them to be able to
compete
So, following a simply
inspired idea
Next summer on the
sporting Calendar
A brand-new event will
appear
To accommodate the
unfortunates
When the “Essex Games”
begin next year
I’ve just found out about the clean and jerk
I don’t mind saying I
feel a bit of a burke
In fact I doubt I
could feel any dafter
Because I generally
clean mine after
Professor Sir Ludwig "Poppa" Guttmann
How proud would Ludwig
be?
If he could only see
The oak tree that has
grown
From his tiny acorn
sown
As a Jew he was no
stranger
To prejudice and its
danger
He had seen the Nazi
storm
And they’re concept of
the norm
He saw how
disabilities lead
To the slaughter shed
So he fled to London
And his work was begun
How proud would Poppa
be?
If he could only see
The fruits of his
endeavours
To change the view
forever
Of people written off
“Only cripples?” he
would scoff
He was a tour de force
And single minded of
course
Who didn’t see freak
show exhibits
But challenges to the
human spirit
How proud he would
have been
If he could have only
seen
When Paralympians,
each and every one
Drug cheats should receive,
No second chance, no
reprieve
A total ban for their
crime
And the ban should be
lifetime
The winner of the
event
The one for whom the
gold was meant
Doesn’t stand atop the
podium
And hear their anthem
in the stadium
The true gold medal
recipient
Is for ever robbed of
that moment
Though their honour
was earned
That moment can never
be returned
My mate asked me why
I’m a United fan
I replied that it was
Because my brother Dan
Supported the Reds,
Also, my dad was a
United man
And my mum was a
Lifelong United fan
So that was why I was
also
A Man United fan
“That’s ridiculous” he
said
“What if your brother
was a thug?
Your mum was a
prostitute
And your dad was on
drugs
What would you be
then?
You poor misguided fool?”
“Well obviously” I replied
When I was at school
Our English teacher,
Mrs Rowan
Once asked of us as
homework,
During the half term
holiday
To memorize our
favourite poem,
This was met by
groans,
By the class, but not
me
I chose A.E.Housman’s
“Ode to an athlete
dying young”
And it has stayed with
me ever since
We are traditionalists
In our village
Deep in little
Britain.
And on a weekend
There is nothing
We like better
Than a game
Of ten peasant bowling
The purple depths
Of heather on the hill
Looked down at their reflections
In the watery shadows
Of the timeless loch
We are traditionalists
In our village
Deep in little
Britain.
And on a weekend
There is nothing
We like better
Than a game
Of spin the pauper
