‘Twas the Night Before Christmas, with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore
Twas the morning before the night before Christmas, when all round the ground,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a hound;
But then came the helpers, fresh out of their beds,
With mitts on their hands and lamps on their heads.
The boards are stood up, the rope is put round,
From the groundsman most oddly, there’s hardly a sound.
Not an ailment or illness, a tweak or a strain,
Not a back or a leg, an ache or a pain.
The nets are secured, the flags standing tall,
The ref’s room’s set up with drinks and a ball,
The kit is on hangers, the food’s in the pot,
The Chef’s got the fryers all piping and hot.
Now the games have kicked-off, the Bs are one down;
Wixey’s not happy, a grimace and frown.
Coach Harris is bemoaning their sequence of scores,
Win one then lose one, with a couple of draws.
The Lens is so happy, with three games for sale,
You can buy them on credit, you can get them by mail;
You can order from Amazon, delivered by Prime,
Just so long as he gets, his payment on time.
The A’s miss some chances, then Mustoe finds space,
To volley one in; puts a smile on the face
Of the mums and his dad, the gramps and the grans,
The managers and coaches and all Gloucester fans.
With fifteen to go, Billy ballets one in,
There’s a smile on his face and a grin on his chin,
Nureyev celebrates with a twirl and a spin,
The first Xmas present – three points and a win.
The oven’s turned off, the hob and the grill.
Now the football is over, the place is so still,
Thoughts turn to Yuletide, just two sleeps to go.
St Nick and his camera, and a list of who owes.
The Lens turns to leave, to the teams gives a whistle,
And away he then flies, like the down of a thistle;
But we hear him exclaim, ere he drives out of sight,
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
I’ll invoice you tomorrow, or Monday if not,
There’s a pairing, a portrait, a great action shot.
You can have it on canvas, a coaster or frame,
You can have it tattooed, the price is the same.
Put a cheque in the post, bank transfer will do,
Just sign for a hundred, or preferably two.
Please add on a tip, ten per cent of the fee,
It’s cold turkey for you - but Barbados for me!
Not a creature was stirring, not even a hound;
But then came the helpers, fresh out of their beds,
With mitts on their hands and lamps on their heads.
The boards are stood up, the rope is put round,
From the groundsman most oddly, there’s hardly a sound.
Not an ailment or illness, a tweak or a strain,
Not a back or a leg, an ache or a pain.
The nets are secured, the flags standing tall,
The ref’s room’s set up with drinks and a ball,
The kit is on hangers, the food’s in the pot,
The Chef’s got the fryers all piping and hot.
Now the games have kicked-off, the Bs are one down;
Wixey’s not happy, a grimace and frown.
Coach Harris is bemoaning their sequence of scores,
Win one then lose one, with a couple of draws.
The Lens is so happy, with three games for sale,
You can buy them on credit, you can get them by mail;
You can order from Amazon, delivered by Prime,
Just so long as he gets, his payment on time.
The A’s miss some chances, then Mustoe finds space,
To volley one in; puts a smile on the face
Of the mums and his dad, the gramps and the grans,
The managers and coaches and all Gloucester fans.
With fifteen to go, Billy ballets one in,
There’s a smile on his face and a grin on his chin,
Nureyev celebrates with a twirl and a spin,
The first Xmas present – three points and a win.
The oven’s turned off, the hob and the grill.
Now the football is over, the place is so still,
Thoughts turn to Yuletide, just two sleeps to go.
St Nick and his camera, and a list of who owes.
The Lens turns to leave, to the teams gives a whistle,
And away he then flies, like the down of a thistle;
But we hear him exclaim, ere he drives out of sight,
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
I’ll invoice you tomorrow, or Monday if not,
There’s a pairing, a portrait, a great action shot.
You can have it on canvas, a coaster or frame,
You can have it tattooed, the price is the same.
Put a cheque in the post, bank transfer will do,
Just sign for a hundred, or preferably two.
Please add on a tip, ten per cent of the fee,
It’s cold turkey for you - but Barbados for me!
