, , , ,

“Now there are blues that you get from happiness

There are blues you get from pain

There’re blues when you are pining for your team to be shining

Blues that are hard to explain”[1]

“And there are blues you get from cricket

When you hear your top order snick it and they fill up your thoughts with darkest dread

Yes, these blues become a bummer when they wreck half of your summer

And your steel reserves must harden to take the tranny out in the garden

For there are blues you get from hearin’ your team’s chances disappearin’

When your cricket gear’s at home, out in the shed.

But the meanest blues, the meanest blues there be

Are the kind that I got on my mind

The blues the Baggy Greensters give to me.

There are blues you get in snatches when they drop dead sitter catches

And complainin’ to the umpire “He waz out !”

There are blues you get in cricket when the ball misses the wicket and the keeper fakes a half-convincing shout.

There are blues when you find wanting the captaincy of Ponting

Ain’t no point to linger or to blame his busted finger

‘Coz a punter’s just a punter and a Pup is just a pup

With two lost Ashes in a row, the time is surely up

And the Poms are on a millionteen for none

Yes there are blues when their top batters hit everything that matters

And the Poms are on two millionteen for one

But the baddest blues’s my insistence

When the Greens have less resistance

Than the skin on day old custard and the ponces show no mustard

And take a dive before the oldest foe.

Yes, there are blues when you’re in the thicket

And you blame a grassy wicket that didn’t seam to trouble Poms at all

Or there are blues when selector sinners leave out all the spinners

And there’s no-one who can turn a bloody ball.

You could say that it ain’t fair of me and the Poms were just too good

And selection’s such a tricky thing few mortals understood

I’m blue becoz we’ll all have to wait

For the gifted sons of the golden greats

But by that time, I have a hunch, we’ll all be out there takin’ lunch

Through fattish straws – with our toothless mates.

But the bluest thing, the saddest thing – I’ll remember till I die

Was Pup hangin’ on the final Ashes test, prayin’ for a series tie.

[1] From “Blues My Naughty Sweetie Gives to Me” – bent, with apologies