On a stinking warm afternoon at the college…
Raring to go minus Badger of whom we had no knowledge.
Stimulated by some inspiring talk from Ash…
attempting to rouse those still feeling the lash.
There was a suggestion to limit them to 120…
Looking back did way say, “let them score plenty?”
Greg’s first over was expensively uncanny…
As Sheldon dropped one I would have left for my Granny.
The flow of runs didn’t stop there…
As the powerplay alone sent us into despair.
The oppo were giving it an almighty heave…
As we were constantly on the retrieve.
The Hass circled below many a high ball…
With results that never cease to enthrall.
At least Jamie got both hands to his drop…
Only for his shoulder to hit the ground and out did it pop.
The specialist fielder-Dommett arrived in his place…
For him to snare one to set the pace.
For you fans of Coco one must mention her also…
Striding in flaunting her much loved torso.
She attempted to set the game on fire…
But turned out to be just as dire.
The hemorrhaging of runs was unrelenting…
As we all looked on with anger fermenting.
Ash dished up tosh duly dispatched to the crowd…
As the Indians on the ropes got ever so loud.
The Hass stormed in to stem the flow…
Or was it Usain…I’ll never quite know.
They ploughed on to reach 258…
Leaving us requiring one hell of a rate.