Mallards v Excelsior Batters May 17 @ Riding Mill



You Were Warned Peter!


Peter lived in a little brick house,

With two fiery daughters and a little green chameleon,

And a big white dog and a little blue camper wagon,

And a realio, trulio, tame Welsh dragon.


Now the name of the white dog was Luna,

And the two fiery daughters we’ll call them Una and Duna

And the tall blonde dragon was sharp as Mustard,

But Peter was flake, so we’ll call him Custard.


Custard the would-be match reporter had big sharp teeth,

And spikes on top of him and scales underneath,

Mouth like a sewer, and a suction pump for a nose,

And realio, trulio, tattooed daggers on his toes.


The Dragon was as brave as a barrel full of bears,

And Una and Duna chased triathletes down the stairs,

Luna was as brave as a tiger in a rage,

But Custard just cried for a well-stocked cage.


The Dragon tickled him, she tickled him unmerciful,

Una, Duna and Luna, they rudely called him Percival,

They all sat laughing in their little red campervan

At the realio, trulio, cowardly reporter man.


The Dragon laughed till she shook the house up,

And Luna said Woof!, which is giggling for a pup,

Una and Duna rudely asked his age,

When Custard cried for a nice stocked cage.


Now Custard had a passion

A sport oft considered out of fashion

Cricket was its name

And playing for anyone was Custard’s game


Came the night in question

Excelsior Batters were out to make an impression

Riding Mill the chosen venue

And Mallards were on the menu


The toss was won, the choice was made

Mallards to bat and show them what’s at

Kent and Ankush were first at the crease

Soon retiring after making 25 apiece


Up next came Custard, snorting like an engine,

Clashed his tail like irons in a dungeon,

With a clatter and a clank and a jangling squirm

He went at Excelsior attack like a robin at a worm.


Swinging to the left, swinging to the right

It all came to nought for the only duck of the night

Excelsior sensing a collapse rotated through their bowling attack,

But Hamid was well up to the job of holding them back


Nurdling to the left, nurdling to the right

Another retirement on 25 was soon in sight

With Hall and Holland seeing the innings safely to the close

124 for just the loss of Custard – a respectable gross


Suddenly, suddenly was heard a nasty sound,

As all the Mallards looked around.

Meowch! cried Liaquat, and Ooh! Ankush peeled,

For Custard had started marshalling his field


Undeterred Mexter bowled with no sense of fraught

Calmly bagging a brace, one bowled, one caught.

Browne under captain’s orders tried to run amuck

But despite best endeavours had no luck


Next up the Latif twins to deliver some derring-do

Newcomer Tony bagging a further two

As overs ticked down the run-rate crept higher

Victory for Mallards must surely be surefire


Custard seeking to reverse his earlier luck

Bowled tidily at the death i.e. didn’t suck

And as the score reached ninety nine

For Excelsior it was also the end of the line


At the end of match The Dragon embraced him, Luna licked him,

No one dared mention him being the only victim

Though Una and Duna in glee did gyrate

Around Custard just making him more irate


Victory by twenty five, a comfortable win

And off the teams piled to the local Inn

Being Mallards that must surely have meant

Beer and food to celebrate the event


Now this whole tale has been relayed second-hand

With only a scorebook on which to expand

Yet who needs detail to embellish story

When a humble ode is enough to relay the glory?


Now Peter still lives in his red brick house,

With his two fiery daughters and little green chameleon,

And a big white dog and a little blue camper wagon,

And yes a realio, trulio, tame Welsh dragon.


The Dragon’s as brave as a barrel full of bears,

And Una and Duna still chase triathletes down the stairs,

Luna is as brave as a tiger in a rage,

But Custard still cries for his well-stocked cage.

Very loosely based on a poem by Ogden Nash  (Apologies to Mr Nash, his descendants and Vogon’s everywhere and to fellow Mallards for this blatant bid for an end of season trophy)