Introduction

Every football code has its wingmen and while this poem relates to Aussie Rules in particular, we can all relate to the dilemma

The Wingman's Lament

Out by the fence, where the ground is wide,
Stands a lonely figure, the wingman of the side.
He loiters on the outer, wondering how to enter
A game where they are told to keep it down the centre.

Those were the coach's instructions, hence the wingman's riddle,
How to get a kick when they boot it down the middle.
He's been standing out there all Saturday,
Waiting for someone to kick it his way.

All he hears is the drunken throng
Abuse him and accuse him all day long.
They reckon he's a weak link in the side,
But it's not his fault they won't kick it wide.

When the ball skews off the side of a boot,
The wingman pounces, the yobbos hoot.
Now he's on his own, look at him run,
When you've got the footy, the game's more fun.

He bounces it once, will he repeat this trick?
The coach cries out, 'Kick it ya prick'.
The wingman looks up, but he's waited too long
And all of a sudden it all goes wrong.

A great big centre half back bursts through,
The wingman looks like he's been plucked from a stew.
Prostrate and battered, he thought he was strong,
But he held the ball just a moment too long.

'My God, is he dead?' his mother cries.
'He will be soon,' the coach replies.

Copyright; DC Nelson
Email: dcnelson@westnet.com.au