The Almanacker’s Lament (apologies to John O’Brien)

We’ll all be rooned,” said Litza,

In accents most forlorn,

This bloody Ratten shits ya,

I wish he’d not been born.”


The Knackers stood about,

Morose and drinking beers,

And talked of maggots, rorts and dopes,

As they had done for years.


Its looking crook,” said Mr Wrap,

And sipped upon his wine,

No end in sight to all this crap,

Can’t rely upon the Tigers – to even make the Nine.”


Its bad all right,” cried Flynn with little mirth,

My Cats just put in shockers,

Followed them across the land – ended up in Perth,

Warm beer and bloody Dockers.”


Drink up old mates,” cheered Pastor Harms,

The sport is still well governed,

I’m counting all my lucky charms,

The bun is in the oven.”


There’s no relief on Pommy shores,”

Whinged tiny runner Dips,

The tennis and the cricket wars,

Been just a waste of trips.”


Cricket was a game for men in white,

Five day battles for the Ashes,

Now its over in a single night,

Just 50 over dashes.”


Don’t get me started on the tennis,

When Psycho Sam gets done,

Playboy Tomic’s just a menace,

No Aussies by the second day – at Wimble-Bloody-Don.”


The racing men were looking glum – their wallets getting thinner,

So Crio said “if truth be told,

No chance to find a winner,

‘Til Pearson in the Hurdle brings home Olympic Gold.”


And now the drought was broken,

Phantom mumbled through his beard,

Its time the truth was spoken,

No other stars appeared.”


The athletes all got feet of lead,

The swimming ranks are thin,

The hockey teams run dead,

No medals left to win.”


There should be more Olympic sports – like AFL and League,

Good Aussie games – like egg and spoon,

No weakness or fatigue,

There’d be Intercontinental Boozing – we’d bring back David Boon.”


So all agreed the country’s rooted – its just a bloody mess,

The kids are weak; the Chinese bought us; its all just gone to hell,

The sport is stuffed on 7 and 9 – just turn to SBS,

And look across the ditch to France – at least we’ve got Cadel.





    In the centuries of ledgendary Phantom heroics there has never been a single beard recorded.

  2. Who knows what is under the Phantom’s mask??? Its a sacred site, like what’s under Molly’s hat.
    Sorry if I offended Phanto. Rhyming licence requires a stretch occasionally.
    “You have many contacts
    Among the lumberjacks
    To get you facts
    When someone attacks your imagination
    But nobody has any respect
    Anyway they already expect you
    To just give a check
    To tax-deductible charity organizations”
    St Bob (Ballad of a Thin Man)

  3. Very good… my old man used to recite “Said Hanrahan” at Warrnambool Rotary Club functions, much to my teenage embarrassment.

  4. “Something is happening
    and you don’t know what it is
    do you
    Mr Baulderstone”

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