Tim got dropped for Mark.
But then Mark’s pelvis shattered,
And Tim was back in.
We call Bruce, “Bruiser.”
And we call Matt Smith, “Matt Smith.”
We don’t like Matt Smith.
When Garth’s femur snapped
And the ambulance was late,
We lit his Winfields.
Then when Paul’s heart broke.
He didn’t talk about it,
He just got muscly.
Coach Nixon presides.
Wearing those denim trousers,
That aren’t really jeans.
Red kicks like a star.
But he has social problems.
And he can’t tackle.
“Pussy Inspector.”
That’s what Matt says his job is.
Matt is forty-three.
Max smiles to himself,
Looks up from the barbecue,
Says something racist.
Tim’s first to training.
Cos the pool shop he works at,
Is just up the road.
Working crushed Damon.
And then football crushed Damon.
Then Kate crushed Damon.
There’s good attention,
And then there’s bad attention.
Dave doesn’t know this.
When it gets muddy
The Catagunya Oval
Smells like raw sewage.
When training’s over
The beige Holden Apollo
Skids into the night.