BLOOD and GUTS

 

                   Blood and Guts

                                        VFL

                             "Footy Sat’day Arvo”

 

Hail, rain, mist, shine, mighty men play,

by car, bus, tram, train, grounds packed, “Vics” big day,

kids on fruit crates, outer awash with beer

“one eyed” fans boo umps, barrack, cheer.

 

Aussie rules tantalize crowds, skills of our game,

place kicks straight as a die, will never be the same,

torps spiral thru towering posts, another goal,

“dead eye dick” full forwards, many we recall,

bullet stabs down your throat, great to see

drop punts deadly, like a well-oiled 303,

full backs spinning drops, pierce hard Merri Creek soil,

pours “cats ’n dogs,” creates black glue, foil for the tall.

 

New handball brilliant, coaches master to score,

fly high for “spekkies”, like eagles, soar,

man, on man, silence broken by din, buzz, hum,

rovers nimble, scavenge packs hungry for a crumb.

 

 

Lugging coal on your back, or job with a pen,

train twice a week in the dark around 5pm,

post workout team spirit kindled, with cold amber fluid,

legit pay, or in your boot only 5-10 quid.

 

Pre-match rub downs, KO’d behind play, bloody fist too fast,

one cannot compare legend greats from the past.

 

Shame TV not available to flood homes and pubs

imagine highlights enthusing members for all clubs.

 

 

Alan Pinkus                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              alpinkuspoetry.blogspot.com