the try line beckons again - r16

quarter to fucking nine in the morning

cold as hell

standing near naked on the sideline

waiting for a thin fucking jersey to wear

last week I was 9 today 15

what the fuck is all that about

thank god I don’t have to kick the ball

with my cold fucking toes

bad enough with fingers I’ve had in my anus keeping warm

so much for fair play 

both the referee and couch dress for a day in the snow

my willy smaller than my pinkie

shorts up around my balls

and I look like a pincushion

not a good look to the girls

wish the referee would swallow his fucking whistle 

so we all go home

shit the oval fucking thing is coming my way

attached to a boy the size of a tree

I’m sure he’s not 7

more like twenty-three

where the fuck is number 16 to pass the ball to

fuck no 16 playing today

well here goes

tuck the ball up my jersey and run like the wind

fuck which way is the try line

some arso giving me instructions

if he’s so good maybe he should play

the rules say pull the tag, stop and stay

pass the ball and sit down for a rest

running round like a bee in a honey pot

smelling like shit and wee

so what’s so wrong with hugging your mum

and what’s wrong with having a pee

halftime is here and the coach yelling

giving encouragement to all especially me

stop playing with yourself

it will grow on its own

that makes me feel like a pea in a pot of shit

before I know I’ve been dropped

sitting on the sideline with the girls

of standard 3 

listening to their slop

before I’m aware I have a goal post in my baggies

and the fucking mother with the big tits

is giving me a stare (and that’s no vacant look)

I thought if I look as good to her as she to me

I’m there if I could score

so up I shot and onto the field

stanched the ball from little johnny and shot to the line

I’ve scored

look at me you mother of three

back to earth an all black no more

just a boy of 3 plus 4

a winger a forward a fullback all three

for I’m the player of the day

carried to the sideline high and dry

praise be the great

with a card to show and to treasure

so to all the stupid girls  

you can have me at your leisure

but the best of all rewards

the ice cream from mr wippie

and the hug from mum

as the try line beckons