Scotty, pal, mate, sorry to interrupt your holiday,
You’re hot and frazzled but we’ve something to say,
We’ve put up with becoming the dumping ground
For the Kiwi criminal element you’ve forensicly found.
We don’t mind your cricketers condescending views,
We don’t mind pitching over the ditch fresh fire crews,
We Kiwis don’t mind being the butt of your every joke,
But Scott, don’t dump on us with your second hand smoke.
There’s no more gracious loser than that humble Black Capped bloke,
Though handicapped by the International Cricket Councils ruling joke-
Backing England to win on boundaries, the latest of their master strokes-
Including that deflected six from that lucky bast- batsman, Master Stokes!?
Who’s that sitting in the naughty corner?
Why, it’s ex Vice-captain David Warner;
Pugnacious Davey is now counting the cost
Of cheating to win, but how much has he lost?
Its not the Vice-captaincy loss that makes him bite his lip,
It’s those millions for playing in India, and his sponsorship,
All he did was try to ‘manipulate an advantage’ to win…
For the soul of him David can’t see why that is a sin?
For Davey it’s just not cricket for 365 more days,
Time a’plenty to tote up the cost of his cheatin’ ways;
Someones gone and taken away Davey’s bat and ball
Yet it feels like he’s getting his just deserts after all.
Captain Courageous doesn’t mind the sledge,
It gees up the boys in green, gives ’em an edge,
And, of course, all within the rules of his fair game,
That’s always been smooth silver-tongued Smithy’s claim.
But its not a bit of banter he’s used in Cape Town,
His lapse of judgement- and actions- have let him down,
He was happy to see the ball and rules bent out of shape-
No need to peer to see the evidence, Steve, just roll the tape.
Steve won’t resign, its just a heartfelt ‘sorry, let’s move on;
‘Sorry’ sounds hollow, though, when any heart has long gone,
Fronting the world’s best team, yet he cheats wherever he can,
The reason he was caught out is the only reason he’s a sorry man.
Oh, Davy Warner, you poor delicate innocent little flower,
Has the onfield jolly jokey blokey jousting begun to sour?
Did De Kocks disagreeable dialogue offend the ear, so tender
Of crickets deep-dredging low down sledging main offender?
It’s understandable for Davy to blow his fuse
When his wonderous team occasionly gracelessly lose,
But even when the bas Baggy Greens win
He can’t help putting his too little sense in.
So what has brought about whining Warnies petulant pout?
He can’t take the fact someone else is dishing it out;
So does he keep his counsel, as a good vice-captain ought?
Crikey, not on your ever-loving effing blinding life, sport.
South African cricket captain Faf du Plessis was ‘dissapointed’
at the booing he received from the Adelaide crowd after making a superb 100 in the third test.
Du Plessis became an object of the crowds ire the week before when the ICC officially charged him with ball tampering for using a lolly to shine the ball in the previous Hobart test. Faf pleaded guilty to the charge.
After the great century du Plessis made
What boorishness the Okker crowd displayed,
He was dismayed by the crowds unsporting booing
-It’s not as if Fafing about was all he had been doing.
Perhaps if Faf needed a hint
The crowd reminded him of a mint,
And that they thought he was a cheat,
And his hundred didn’t taste quite so sweet.
Next time, Faf, don’t be a drip,
Clench that jaw, close tight that lip,
Don’t suck on that digit, keep it clean,
Jeez, Faf, think where that fingers been?