Middle-aged Icarus

Bloated, middle-aged Icarus

When will you ever learn?

The game is beyond you now

Give someone else a turn.

 

Batting is a playful whim

But running between wickets ?

Damn turning for a third run

Bring in the bloody pickets!

 

Your mind is still seventeen

Though the body is forty-three

Bowling pace was your forte

Now it’s a distant memory.

 

Desperately you turn to spin

Faced with a synthetic pitch

Dispatched over the pavilion

A shovel to dig a ditch?

 

Sixteen years between drinks

An alcoholic has more clarity

You lumbering, flannelled fool

Show yourself some charity.

 

“You can do it” they whisper

Hubris and Nemesis love your sort

To you it’s a lifelong passion

For them it’s just sport.

 

Gigs and MOC are on your side

They too play in the Vets team

Middle-aged Icarus’s of the Hill

Who’ve kept their self-esteem.

 

A wounded Magpie in the dirt

You won’t give up the fight

Like Icarus flapping in vain

The hope for one more flight.

 

 

 

About Phillip Dimitriadis

Carer/Teacher/Writer. Author of Fandemic: Travels in Footy Mythology. World view influenced by Johnny Cash, Krishnamurti, Larry David, Toni Morrison and Billy Picken.

Comments

  1. Mr Bogan – you just have to get your mind around the fact that it’s the same game – just played in slow motion.

    Did the ball sail over the fence in slow motion?

  2. Hope you get that one last flight LB

    Lovely stuff

  3. Dips, the ball was definitely bowled in slow motion and disappeared quickly. I have enjoyed getting back into it but it frustrates me that the muscles (figuratively speaking) can’t do what the brain asks them to.
    T Bone, I won’t give up but in the back of my mind Richie Benaud’s voice keeps saying: “Very, very stupid indeed!”

  4. John Butler says

    Phil, Phil, Phil,

    With memories of that Almanac XI game still painful, I know how you feel.

    Just remember, when reflex is dulled, suppleness has fled, and the eye is dulled, rat cunning, gamesmanship and sheer bloody mindedness must suffice.

  5. A wounded magpie in the dirt – Phil, I can picture you (I mean, the magpie) so clearly. Great metaphor

  6. Wounded magpie.. Sounds like tommy haley in the 75 preliminary final at half time..Nothin more tigerish than a wounded bloody tiger…

  7. Hafey, not Haley..

  8. JB, I thought I still had some talent after the Almanac match. Delusions of adequacy obviously! Thanks Cookie, some metaphors work on occasion.

    Actually Paubai, Haley might not be so inappropriate. A music journo, documenting Bill Haley’s (The Comets) ill-fate career and lack of sexual machismo, compared to Elvis, wrote:
    “He looked like a mailman and moved like a lummox.”
    A bit like me on the cricket field at the moment!

  9. Phil, you need to reconnect with the Pegasus of your youth.

    Great stuff mate.

  10. Thanks Damo, great to meet you at the launch last week. Could have talked to you for hours. I’m sure we’ll get another chance to wax lyrical soon. I’d like to buy a copy of your Footy Quatrains. Let me know where and how. Hope you have a great Xmas (Phil)

  11. Likewise Phil. Enjoyed the chat immensely. Hopefully the book is not too far away.

  12. Just caught up with this, Phil. Brilliant. And I feel honoured to have rated a mention.

    No delusions of adequacy today mate – your 3-for was a deserved reward for some great bowling.

    Carn the Hillers!

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