The Song Of Great Green Gibbo
Below is my failed attempt to write a match report in the style of ‘The Story of Hiawatha’ by Longfellow (lucky chap):
Should you ask me, whence these stories?
Whence these legends and traditions,
With the odors of the forest
With the dew and damp of meadows,
With the curling smoke of wigwams,
With the rushing of great rivers,
With their frequent repetitions,
And their wild reverberations
As of thunder in the mountains?
I should answer, I should tell you,
From the boozers and the taverns,
From the talkers of the bollocks,
From the Cowboys and the Cowgirls.
From the wanker that is Webgimp,
From those tainted fingers typing,
typing on the grubby keyboard,
Made up he those putrid stories.
Oh ear we go, prevarication,
All around the bloody bushes.
Using language like a dandy,
Using words for tit-elation.
What ‘appened in the frigging match
Who prevailed, who was failure?
Who could care? I can’t imagine.
Neither watchers, nor the players.
At The Plough, the boozy Mecca,
Centre of the Universe’l,
Centre of all self-destruction,
Home from home to the debauched.
Here did Cowboys come together,
Cricket players by name at least,
But made idol by the weather,
Restless fellows, The Eastonites.
Waited here they for Green Gibbo,
Waited here for tiny motor,
Celestial green Nissan Micra .
Asking they of local prophet,
Prophet of a dumbass new church,
Wherefore is your God you tosser,
Last night was he drinking be-er?
Drinking be-er by ‘ere in Pluff?
Prophet said of Great Green Gibbo,
He appears here at his leisure
He’s in heaven and can hear us
He’s not kind to those that doubt him,
When you doubt the Great Green Gibbo.
You’ll Incur his wrath akimbo,
Suffer much from nasty thingies,
Suffer plenty vengeful curses.
Suffer plagues and bulging pustules.
Weeks had past here, still they waited,
Waited for the rain to lessen,
Lessen from a mighty deluge
Pissing from the bloody heavens.
Great Green Gibbo came among them,
Told them that the season’s over
Told them that the sun was setting.
Told them they had miffed him greatly.
Spared them though the worst afflictions.
Charged them though the subs for cricket.
Then they moaned much, pleaded feebley
Pleaded they had not played cricket
Great Green Gibbo showed no mercy
Changed his mind and charged them double.
Our season so far by Treacher