THE LAST OVER (a cricket story)

THE LAST OVER (a cricket story)

The captain passed the ball to his best bowler
it had been very hot and this was the last over
Joe was facing, he had twenty runs to his name
for many years he has been playing this game
he looked ahead and saw the bowler was ready
in front of the wickets Joe got himself steady
he tapped the bottom of his bat on the ground
made some funny sort of deep clunking sound
it was a close game, there was nine runs needed
and two wickets to go as the over was proceeded
with sweat beads pouring down his tired old face
Joe watched the bowler running in at a fast pace
like a wild bull with steam coming from his nose
and with his final steps towards the pitch he rose
before landing right before the bowling crease
swinging he arm to bowl with a quick release
the red ball flew like a bullet towards the pitch
it sped so fast that it almost created a small ditch
the ball skimmed from the turf at a low height
and the sun in Joe’s eye was getting a bit bright
as the projectile was in near reach of Joe’s swing
he went for a big bash at the bloody red thing
next moment he heard a scream like a banshee
and noticed the bowler dancing like a wild bee
“you’re out!” called the old umpire, “L. B. W!”
someone in the crowd yelled, ”that’s not true”
Joe looked dejected at the red mark on his pad
he had been playing cricket since he was a lad
as Joe left the playing field the crowd cheered
then they hushed as the last batsman appeared
batting in his first game ever was Mad Mick
some locals actually thought he had not a trick
and thought the game was over and finished
their hopes of winning had rapidly diminished
as Mick reached the crease the sun was burning
and the butterflies in his stomach was churning
the fast bowler had a grin as big as funny clown
thinking of smashing the wooden wickets down
as Mick faced up he had his bat the wrong way
the fielders had a good laugh on this serious day
once corrected, Mad Mick was ready for action
and silence around the arena was the reaction
old Macca in the crowd put down his tea cup
as the bowler sneered as he began his run up
charging in again like an angry big cartoon bull
the energy in his wild eyes was showing full
Mick sweated so much, his face was drowning
as the red object on the pitch came pounding
the bat was swung and all it hit was just fresh air
and the fast ball hit Mick in the groin like a flare
everybody cringed as if they had taken the blow
four balls, one wicket and nine runs still to go
a junior’s protector box Mick had put in place
no wonder all could see extreme pain in his face
Mick’s family jewels were not covered enough
but i assure you, i know Mick is pretty tough
he recovered to play the next ball of the over
the patient bowler was standing amid the clover
once more the hard ball sped at a great velocity
spinning in twisted rotations as fast it can be
it kept low and streamed into Mick’s groin again
tears came down his sweaty face like rapid rain
the small crowd ‘oohed and ahhed’ in disbelief
and Macca yelled, ”that would’ve hurt, chief”
the fielding team were sniggering out aloud
the sun was hotter now ‘cause there was no cloud
Mick managed to face up to the next fast ball
it came like a rocket that again made Mick fall
withering in pain Mick rolled upon the dry grass
that red nut hit him right in the middle of his arse
but he got up and was ready to battle once more
even though he was feeling a bit sick and sore
two balls to go, the away team was feeling great
the keeper said, ”you’re going out this time, mate”
Mick looked at him with fire in his teary eyes
while he swatted away a couple of big horseflies
Macca screamed, “you can do it Mad Micky!”
it was really becoming scorching hot and sticky
all the fielders moved up closer to the batsman
one bragged, “we’ve got this match in the can”
the fifth thunderbolt struck the edge of the bat
and it nearly knocked of the umpire’s white hat
it streaked towards the boundary for four runs
then it rolled to a slow stops near a group of nuns
a lucky hit everybody thought within the crowd
Mick smiled as he stood tall and mighty proud
one ball to go and six more runs were needed
“oh well we’ve lost this one” Macca conceded
all was hushed as the bowler began to advance
to win the game this was the team’s last chance
the sweat was pouring and the sun was so bright
making it hard for Mick to see through the light
he could barely see the flying fiery comet ball
Mick swung his bat with fury and no hope at all
a loud crack echoed throughout the whole place
which put a smile on Macca’s old weathered face
the ball soared up in the sky into the shining sun
and the batsmen decided that did not have to run
when the ball decided to descend it began to whistle
a fielder stood on the boundary next to the thistle
he was the most reliable catcher for the away team
and he had a steady eye upon the hard ball’s seam
by now Mick was in semi shock that he hit that
and so was the umpire who took of his white hat
the ball came like a hot meteor from the universe
Macca was lost for words, he could not converse
the fielder stretched his arms far as they could go
everything seemed to go into automatic slow-mo
the crowd gasped as the ball was near his digits
Mick thought, “wouldn’t that give you the sh*ts”
the overstretched fielder suddenly slipped over
it was on a small patch of luscious green clover
“six! six! six!” Macca screamed in excitement
with the opposing team staring in bewilderment
old Joe was the first to rush out to congratulate
and a young lady asked Mick for a dinner date
so after the sun settled in the west for the night
a party was held at the pub until the next daylight.