I’d missed the news yet caught a rumour
Barely through the summer slept.
Now autumn blows a heavy humour
Scandal has its promise kept.
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Our finest wine has left the rack
To shelf-share with commercial liquor
Our most revered hound in the pack
Has jumped with foxes (browner? quicker?)
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Oh Tim, our Tim, the patron saint
Of calling sport and waxing human
Take care to not your goodness taint
On chairs depressed by Hunt and Newman
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We can’t deny your right to riches
Loyal to our aunt you’ve been
I just can’t catch your pearls of pitches
Tossed with sponsors in between.
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Like none today recall McKenna
Slotting goals in Carlton’s blue
A legend in ABC colours
Is e’er how we’ll remember you.
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