This Most Marvellous Pope
Richie’s out for 84
No wickets left in hand
No nightwatchman tonight
All heads bowed now in the shed at 2.22
T’was a worthy captains knock, they said, over
That satin voice of summer from the TV
Speaks, makes sense of the maths
three days into a test, Benaud never said too much
On that carpet of humanity, we dip the Baggy Green
This leg-spin pontiff, an aggressive wag of the holy tail
Lest we forget your leg breaks, your flipper
a googly/top spin blend
A raised eyebrow, a little nod he said
a smashed gum, a cut top lip against South Africa
copped one in the face at short gully
A mumble of wedding vows
He’s a slow turn of the ball
giving life to the leather
hitting a 100 in 78 minutes against the Windies in 55
Cheers you marvellous silvertop
And that’s stumps