The Ashes Poem for Test Match Special

It’s time again for twenty-two
To stand fore-square upon the turf
The baggy green and navy blue
Let cork and leather strike the earth

The willow-crack the ball in flight 
Oh quicken hearts and hungers burn
The gold and green, the red and white 
In quest to hold the sacred urn

But can it be true what the papers all say?
The Aussies are lost and in deep dissaray? 
With talk of indiscipline throwing the book
Of Arthur’s dismissal or Warner’s right hook

And will Clarky turn up? Will Watson survive?
Can Agar and Hughes keep the Aussies alive?
Will Trott be on shot? Cook hit the boil?
With KP the nuts and Jimmy the foil

Will England be ruthless and brutally strong?
Or will the whole thing go unfeasibly wrong? 
To the echoes of gleeful Australian cries 
About rabbits in headlights and ‘chuckers’ of pies

For it wouldn’t take memeralogical* classes 
To recall the Kiwis where kicking our arses 
Just six months ago, so shall we say no?
But if asked to place odds, now which way would one go?

For the summer is young and its starting to flow
So it’s out with the mic and it’s on with the show


Aggers is anticipating, 
Boycs is busy barbilating 
Blowers encapsulating 
Ashers is corroborating

Vaugny is expostulating, 
Grumpers coolly cogitating, 
Victor is extrapolating, 
Tuffers is discombobulating,


Tune in for patter on bowler the batter
From Devon to Dacca, from here to the WACCA
As cricketing matters went off like the clappers
There isn’t a doubt that we’re in for a cracker, 

From under to over From Dubai to Dover 
To Woolamaloo we’re all here for the test 
(Now available on iplayer app)
For the last word in commentary, from the audio promontory,

Of Test match special, quite simply the best

*new word