Rugby World Cup Poemfor BBC Radio Leeds 18/9/15
I’m no expert on the Rugby World Cup,
but it being held here might wake my interest up.
At the moment I think a Haka
is someone who listens to your phone messages
and don’t even ask me what I think a Hooker is.
I gather this is a sport England can actually win,
(though the papers would probably blame a loss
on Jeremy Corbyn)
Apparently it’s William Webb Ellis and line outs
and trying and trying and trying again,
it’s being a flanker,
not being a…flunker
and smelly, sweaty, steely men.
It’s getting together in the middle of the pitch for a big group hug, (I think that’s what it is)
it’s staying stoic
when someone’s squashed your intestines to a pulp,
it’s being heroic
and facing bigger blokes with a quickly swallowed gulp.
It’s your bowels feeling squeegy
before tonight’s opening bout with Fiji.
It’s definitely Union, not League but that doesn’t mean it’s posh.
Both types bring the region dosh.
It’s opposing scrums of muscly boys
and oggy oggy oggy oi oi ois
It’s tackles and kicks and laying it on thickly,
before injury sends you off
for sequins and suntans on Strictly.
It’s probably giving peace a chance
& not mocking some other team’s native dance- Hakarena- Schmacarena.
It’s big thighs,
and last minute surprise,
it’s rucking and mauling
and never ever bawling.
It’s having wins and losses and showers together,
and secretly liking muddy weather.
It’s in-tune singing from the crowd,
getting anxious and feeling proud,
faces painted with flags and woad,
four nations meeting at Elland Road,
three teams based in welcoming Leeds,
meeting all their off-pitch needs, in Fanzones and manzones,
it’s being able to say you were there.
From Headlingley to Halifax
as the Swing Low chariot calls,
even I’ll be fascinated by the men
with the funny shaped balls.