Premier League letdowns; Tough times for the dogged, game but toothless Terriers of poor Huddersfield Town. Commiserations- of a kind- from a Crystal Palace fan.

Down In Hudddersfield Town.

Huddersfield Town’s future, so bright last June
Finally faded at Crystal Palace this dull afternoon,
It’s bound to be a silent, sad, sombre- and sober- coach trip
As the Terriers head back up North, down to the Championship.

By Xmas, Town knew it was gonna be tough at the top
But it’s a lot rougher when you’re the first team to drop,
To survive in the Premier League is a simple numbers game;
When Town tote up their losses all it amounts to is a crying shame.

If only Huddersfield’s brittle defence had been stronger
Or if their busy goalkeepers arms had been a little longer,
Or if they had a striker- or two- to pop in an occasional winner
The Terriers season mightn’t be finishing up a total dogs dinner.

 

©Obbverse

Travel the world, broaden your horizons, but above all respect other countries customs.

Touch Down.

We deboarded blearily upon our belated arrival at LAX,
We wearily complied with Customs and Security checks,
I regret to say I might not have been at my diplomatic best
By asking the flunky why he treated me as an unwelcome guest?

He took much umbrage with my query, but that’s not all he took,
I lost my dignity when he gave me more than a searching look,
It’s been an uncomfortable welcome to the land of the free;
All that poking and probing don’t sit too easily with me.

 

©Obbverse

The magical golden run of Crystal Palace Football Club in the FA Cup dries up at Watford. (Watford 2, Palace 1.)

Shake It Off.

I’m not saying I’m a religious man,
I’m more a godless Crystal Palace fan,
But trying to follow Hodgson’s odd squad
Leaves me believing there’s a devil, swear to God.

Off we went to Vicarage Road,
On the train up we drank- a load,
Arriving in a giddy state of inebriation,
But our loss meant ’twas premature celebration.

We’d gone into the Hornets nest and been sorely stung,
Now I stand, swaying, with heavy heart and head hung,
Thinking of how, again, our dreams of an FA Cup final
Swirl away, down the drain of a poxy Watford urina

 

©Obbverse

Forty-nine people- people, not numbers, but people – dead in a mosque shooting in NZ and an Aussie raving loony politician has the answer! It’s all due to those migrants ?! Back under your rock, Fraser Anning.

Too Right, Cobber.

Thank you for your deep thoughts, Fraser Anning,
No thanks, for the Right wing flames you’re fanning,
He condemns all violence, yet his dry eye darkly gleams,
For him it’s only the Right who can be left to go to extremes.

He’s saddened by Mosque shootings but
It’s not time to keep his diplomatic gob shut,
He’ll illuminate us of what we’ve been blind to;
Words Fraser has long had half a mind to.

First his ‘final solution’ speech brought screeches of indignation
From even Pauline Hanson and her all-inclusive One Nation,
But stating the victims of a Mosque shooting are to blame
Guarantees Fraser strolls straight into the Hall of Shame.

 

©Obbverse

Death and destruction comes to quiet little Christchurch. In peaceful New Zealand! Far far too close to home.

World Wide Web.

Out in our quiet corner in the South Pacific
In our far-flung little slice of paradise,
Where life is so slow and sleepy and soporific
It seems our dozing has come at a heavy price.

Here, war and strife happens in far off lands,
But the warlike world has intruded today,
And all we can do is throw up our hands
And wish the bloody world would go away.

 

©Obbverse

Cardinal Pell, off to jail, found guilty of abusing two young innocents. Still, he has a few (redundant) conservatively minded men who still support him.

Beyond Belief.

George Pell is due to serve six long years,
George has had quite the fall from grace,
He prays his appeal will reach Gods ears
And deliver him from this cold dark place.

But some do still believe the old Vatican envoy,
John Howard believes whatever George says,
Tony Abbott believes he’s innocent as a choirboy;
George believes… that’s an unfortunate phrase.

 

©Obbverse

Crystal Palace play host to Brighton And Hove Albion. Old friends always find succor and comfort at Selhurst Park. (Palace 1, Brighton 2.)

Home Truths.

Oh, how the Crystal Palace fans love to roam-
They know there’s little joy in playing at home.

Eagles fans and players revel in their travelling ways
Since Selhurst Park offers ’em cold comfort these days.

The staff at Selhurst Park remain convivial and charming
But heaving out the welcome mat to Hove is most alarming.

And so goes the game, Deja vu, Palace do what we do best,
Letting Brighton Albion linger on, like an unwelcome guest.

Selhurst Park is becoming an Away teams Field of Dreams,
Surely we’re taking ‘charity begins at home’ to extremes

Obbverse

 

A free-wheeling but badly balanced tale of exercise, weight loss and loss of dignity.

All Downhill.

I’d been parked up slothfully on the couch
Hands comfortably folded on my spreading pouch
When my wife’s gaze went from the athletes on the telly
And settled reprovingly on my burgeoning belly.

So, I lay down my bottle of Bud and bowl of Lays
Vowing I would put behind me my couch potato days,
Out back in the garage lay my old bike, forgotten and dusty,
Abandoned, muddy, bespattered, cruddy and crusty.

Years ago I had enjoyed pedaling hell for leather
Braving life, limb and hypothermia whatever the weather,
Then I’d found myself out of luck, control and flying off course,
Now, after a decade of decadence, I was remountin’ the horse.

For hours I cleaned, checked, fussed and fettled,
Then back into the saddle I comfortably resettled,
The tyres gave a hiss of disapproval and began to deflate;
Time to pump the perishing tyres and lose some weight.

My old lycra shorts also fit a bit tighter
Than when I’d been fit and tons lighter,
But it takes a lot of guts to tighten and cinch
Pants that can fit, butt at a pinch.

Off I wobbled towards my happy trails,
Hoping to stay on the path, not go off the rails,
From atop the mount the way narrowly wound;
It’s impact on me would be most profound.

I looked down that slippery slope,
Offered up a prayer and the earnest hope
That the older wiser me had learnt from my mistakes-
Then simply prayer when I found I lacked brakes.

I found myself taking a high flying jump,
I scarcely missed landing on a sturdy stump,
How fortuitous my newfound Lord heard my heartfelt call
And had a handy bush of thorns to break my fall.

But it was not a happy landing,
I was left incapable of standing,
For a big boy’s mountain bike needs a stout brace,
And that brace struck me in my happy place.

Now I’m on my comfy sofa, laid back,
Hand uncomfortably cupping an ice pack,
Till I can stand and recover from the bars low blow,
No more a ‘mountain biking will this guy go.

 

©Obbverse

Luke Perry leaves. An obit, of sorts. Not being a fan of 90210, maybe I’m not as upset as I should be. But hey, as the man himself said, ‘everyone’s a critic.’

Spoiler Alert.

Sorry, Luke Perry, for you, at 52, it’s time to go,
Yep, your number’s up, it’s Forest Lawn, not 90210,
Your final role is an unrehearsed and tragic one,
You’ve played your bit part, now the play is done.

E’en now, once teenage girls cry into their bouquets,
Pining, remembering a Dylan back in his salad days,
Still, Luke won’t have to see a slow sad decline,
To face his once-fresh face settle on another line.

 

©Obbverse

Air New Zealand, venerated around the world, look at their own back yard. After years of sky-high pricing, NOW they’re slashing prices! Too many aircraft, too few bums on seats and suddenly Mike Tod the Munificent discovers they have the capacity to be caring?

Fickle And Flighty.

To our quiet, little visited and far flung town
Air New Zealand are back, bringing fares down.

What could have caused this touching turnaround?

As financial clouds darken Air New Zealand’s sky
The word comes down from Almighty Tod on high-

Tod’s pitch takes on that familiar whining sound-

‘Cute little destinations we’d dropped when it suited
Will be reviewed, revisited and profitably rerouted,

It’s past time to retread long forgotten fallow ground

And high time we gave Heartland New Zealand a fair fare.’
Odd, Tod, till profits went down you wouldn’t go there.

Who knew in his corporate chest a heart could be found?

 

©Obbverse