World Rugby Cup Preview Poem by Chris Higginson

They started up “The Haka”, to stimulate their sides
The All Blacks go all blacker and they ponce about with strides
To make some funny noises as though killing all their sheep
Adopting comic poises while their insults we must ‘bleep’

And so I got to thinking about the other teams
Should they go on slinking with nightmares in their dreams
Or should they now get even and make their own displays
And get their fans believin’, they’re worthy of their praise?

The English team will mosey out and stand in groups of three
And say, “It’s somewhat cosy out. D’you think it’s time for tea? ”
Then they’ll take white dusters and wave them in the air
And dance about in clusters with bells tied here and there

The Scottish team you will then see with bottles in their hands
“Doontya fookin’ look at meee… yoou Dicks from yon Lowlands! ’
They’ll do a sort of jumping dance while tripping over swords
Flashing kilts they twirl and prance like ginger hirsute hordes

The Irish team will have two sides with flags of different hue
They’ll march about with stamping strides and say-ing “We are due
To have divided dressing rooms, we will not play with you! ”
Then do a sort of River Dance with high kicks in a queue

The Welsh will troop onto the field and stand in choirs of size
The larger ones will form a shield for those with smaller thighs
Then they’ll start to sing a song that no one comprehends
That is a hundred verses long with words like LLandgowrowndebends

Then the Rainbow Nation with Y-fronts on their shirts
Will stage a demonstration on wearing pants or skirts
“Our ethnic dress we do decree must be for one and all”
They’ll argue one and one makes three then lose the bloody ball

The Spaniards will arrive on scene with funny little hats
With capes and horses that have been covered up with mats
They’ll wave red rags and shout for “Bull” while posing in the sun
But when it comes they’ll ‘finger pull’ and de-part at the run

The Yanks will come and start their rants all dressed from head to toe
With armour plated padded pants, insignias that glow
With GPS and Laser Beams… they say, “We’ve never lost
We’ll bomb the grounds of other teams no matter what the cost! ”

The Arab teams will unify declaring “Holy War! ”
Until the time they make a try and tally up their score
Then they’ll claim each other, has created their divide
They’ll blast each mother’s brother with bombers suicide

Samoans, they will come with picks and shovels in their packs
First a hole they’ll dig and fix some boulders from their sacks
Around the sides creating seals, start bonfires in a ‘tick’
Invite the other teams for meals then “Eat’um pretty quick! ”

The Aussies will have BBQs and six-packs in their ‘Ute’
“Come and eat some kangaroos… the Wallabies are beaut’! ”
They’ll eat and drink and drink and eat until the final chunder
They never will concede defeat in Footie from ‘Down Under’

The Frenchies’ preparations will consist of making walls
Somewhere in the midfield impenetrable to balls
But when the oppositions come, charging round the side
They’ll quickly say, “We do succumb, although we never tried! ”

The Japs will set up Sushi Bars with meat and fishes raw
Slipping in an egg with SARS, ‘cause all is fair in war
And then they’ll try to publicize that whales are in profusion
In spite that we all criticize their slaughtering collusion

Italians will arrive in suits with shoes like winkle pickers
Searching for forbidden fruits they’ll stare at girls with knickers
Armani here and Guchi there they try to pinch some bums
But will select the re-verse gear if opposition comes

Canadians each other praise, pretending unity
Then singing out “La Marseillaise”, they say “Quebec is Free! ”
But when there’s no one looking they argue “sub voce”
And when we ask, “What’s cooking? ” They say, “Oh, we’re okay! ”

The Ruskies will arrive on horse with raggy baggy pants
With furry hats and swords of course, we’ll look at them askance
They’ll pillage and they’ll rumble and dance with folded arms
Then after Vodka stumble and crawl on knees and palms

The Zimbos were invited but no one ever came
It seems they have been blighted with no one left to blame
The ball was lost the posts fell down the players lost their zest
To pay the trillion dollars for a ticket to the test

So there you have it rugby fans: Distractions from the game
Instead of instituting bans, we’ll join and do the same
Dancing in the mid field with spectacle and noise
Prancing to make others yield like rowdy little boys