Sticking with World Cup songs, Bert writes:
All proper World Cup campaigns, no matter what the sport, need a World Cup Song, but in the past I think teams have made a tactical mistake. All these songs tell of hope and excitement, of the chance of winning, no matter how small. But after the inevitable humiliation in the tournament the hubris associated with this approach affects the way the song is viewed. Nobody wants to hear a song about how we’re bringing the cup home when we’ve gone out in the preliminary round.
So, for England’s World Cup 2015 team, I’ve written a song that more accurately reflects the state of affairs. Because this one is accurate and truthful, I can well imagine that it will be sung from father to son and mother to daughter for generations to come, rekindling the spirit of those far off days of 2015. As next year’s World Cup is in Australia, it has to be an Australian-themed song, and as the list of acceptable Australian songs has been somewhat reduced by recent criminal cases, there is really only one that will fit the bill (a-bong).
England’s 2015 World Cup Song (to the tune of Waltzing Matilda)
Once a jolly batsman batted while ump Billy toiled
Well on his way to a cen-tu-ar-ee
But he got on the nerves of the posh boys in the dressing room
Now he’s not available to play for the team
We’ve got fucking no chance, we’ve got fucking no chance
‘Cause all our best players can’t play for the team
He got on the nerves of the posh boys in the dressing room
Now all our best players can’t play for the team
We had a spinner to whom a lot of skill belonged
He’d grab a huge sack of wickets ‘ere tea
But he had a hissy fit and went and spat his dummy out
Now he’s not available to play for the team
We’ve got fucking no chance, we’ve got fucking no chance
‘Cause all our best players can’t play for the team
He had a hissy fit and went and spat his dummy out
Now all our best players can’t play for the team
We had a batsman who batted till the cows come home
He’d be at the crease almost permanently
But the coach and the captain between them made him mentally ill
Now he’s not available to play for the team
We’ve got fucking no chance, we’ve got fucking no chance
‘Cause all our best players can’t play for the team
The coach and the captain between them made him mentally ill
Now all our best players can’t play for the team
Up jumped the chief exec and sprang up to defend his men
“The captain’s from the right sort of fa-a-mily”
Now the ghost of our chances just wanders round the dressing room
While none of our best players can get in the team
We’ve got fucking no chance, we’ve got fucking no chance
‘Cause all our best players can’t play for the team
And the ghost of our chances just wanders round the dressing room
Now all our best players can’t play for the team
What does Bert have against Swann? I’m not convinced his retirement was a hissy fit, he really just looked to have come to the end of the line to me. Would he even have been England’s first choice ODI spinner even if he hadn’t retired when he did? As for talented spinners who shoulder heavy responsibility for their international unselectability, my soft spot for Monty is wearing ever thinner. Though given his fielding and rabbiting I don’t think he’d have found himself at the World Cup even if he had made a successful Test return.
For mathematical purposes I’m glad I got those two “evens” in there. Can’t be having an odd number of evens.
I’m with Swann. He felt he was no longer good enough to be in the team, and told them that. They said if he wasn’t going to play, he had to go home.
Nice lyrics, Bert, but not sure about all the effing and jeffing. Who do you think you are, Roy Chubby Brown?
There was a bit of effing, it’s true, unavoidable if you think about it. But I was quite careful not to do any jeffing. How dare you accuse me of jeffing! I’ve never jeffed, and I never will.
Is jeffing like blinding? Kids these days, with their fancy lingo. I don’t know…
You might have got even with your evens on Swann, but I’m afraid you managed only an odd even on Monty.
Even I spotted that crass error.
On a tangent, this from James Tredwell:
“I’ve got a bit of a patch where I grow my own fruit and veg so I make some chutneys and jams if I have a bit of a glut,” Tredwell told BBC Sport before departing for the island off the Indian subcontinent.
“I’ve got a couple of chutneys this year which I might sneak into the bag to Sri Lanka but customs tend to be a bit tight these days.
“When we’re in Bangladesh and places like that, where the food can be quite temperamental at times, it can be quite nice to have a bit of home comfort. At other times, it’s just a good way for me to get rid of it. I have that many jars of it in the cupboard, it’s nice to take it away and let the boys enjoy it.”
Taking chutney to Sri Lanka? Isn’t that like taking coal to Newcastle?
Scotland actually did this in the football once:
So long, go on and do your best
Let all France have whiskey on it’s breath
The world may not be shaking yet
But you might prove them wrong
Even long shots make it
(Even long shots make it)
So go then, out into history
And show them how easy it can be
You might not believe it yet
But pretty soon you’ll see
Even long shots make it
Just don’t come home too soon
Just don’t come home too soon
And I don’t care what people say, we can laugh it all away
But if I have a dream at all its best for once
You won’t be on that stupid plane
And the world may not be shaking yet
But you might prove them wrong
Even long shots make it
Just don’t come home too soon
Just don’t come home too soon
“Stupid plane”.
Jeffing
The act of taking an egg, with draw on face with square glasses on a night out. Often involving taking photos of said egg in unusual scenes.
Jeffing (v): Origin: Sometime in the 11th century. Maybe Scottish. Certainly not Yiddish or Turkish. The art of pleasuring a woman while you are blindfolded and have your hands tied behind your back. A rite of passage for manhood in many cultures, much like the Mawe people and the bullet ant sting. It is customary for the ritual to last an hour or so.
I can see why Bert is firm in his denials.
That’s a very obscure usage, DC, and one I could hardly issue a denial about. No, I was referring to the everyday usage of Jeffing, that of playing a gambling game using typographic em quads as dice. I’ve never done that.
Interestingly, on the Urban Dictionary link (the one that mentions an egg), it also gives 20 words related to JEFFING, those being:
jeff; jeffed; jef; drunk; hammered; jeff’d; jeffery; retarded; bacon; flaming; gay; jeffrey; octopus; of; peanutbutter; sexual; turnt up; warcraft; world; wow
I like the phrase “certainly not Yiddish or Turkish”. They are hardly the languages that first spring to mind when you see a word spelt like that.
Certainly not Mandarin and very unlikely indeed to be Pali.