Nets

Its that time again in early Feb,

Find your kit, dust off the webs.

Locate your box you thought you'd lost

Sniff the pads – that smell you’ve missed the most.

Test the gloves that fit so snug

Hardened by the winter fug.

Whose sock is this? It reeks of piss.

This towel OH GOD why did I miss

This item when I cleared the bag,

Last year I could have sworn I had.

Its Tiffin School, the indoor bit,

Around the back lets have a hit

And test our eyes and reflexes clear

Imagine caressing the ball dear

Through the covers for two.

Hold the shot,

Let the skippers see what you’ve got

What it takes to make the grade

And do a job. You’re not afraid

Of Nomi bearing down on you at 80 percent

But quick enough to make you think.

Off stump. IT’S THERE!

It’s through the gate. Bowled. Despair.

Worse still its on film, and laughter from the rest

Hidden away at the back of the net.

But no matter. Im here. Im having a go.

I’ll find it again and then I’ll show

My skills, my talent, my commitment to the team

After all its only nets, so-ones really seen.