Ok pipal...here's a list of poems, most of which have appeared on Sportz Unlimited at some time or other, on various sportsmen and the games people play:-) . Here goes:
On Ravi Sha'stree'
He doesnt bend for no one
not even a passing ball
He can turn any ball to fine leg
but prefers the legs on a doll!
He can stick at the crease for hours
without scoring a single run
But he sure does gallop like a stallion
when its time for midnight fun!
Now onwards to another, this time a poem i wish i had never needed to write.
about a man who gave me so much joy..and then so much pain:-( 'Why Azza Why?'
He made three tons on the trot
and made the world sit up.
In no time at all this humble lad
with fame and fortune did sup.
All the rich food and company
went not to his slim waist.
'Tis said the fat went to his head
coz of glamor he'd now had taste.
He left his wife for an actress
and disowned his middle class roots.
He claimed he was still the same old boy
but had he grown too big for his boots?
This favoured son of Lady Luck
then became Captain by default.
He played upon home advantage
and the wins no one could halt.
He had now scaled the very top
and had all the money and fame.
But the whispers had just started
that he was playing a double game.He flaunted Armani and Rolex
while his form began to wane.
His decisions made people wonder
if he was on the take or just insane.
The team began to slide downhill
losing matches they should have won.
The rumours flew fast and furious
about Hyderabad's prodigal son.
They said his love of the fast life
had led him far astray.
This party animal was not the man
who used to daily five times pray.
They whispered of dons and bookies
of deals done and matches thrown.
And by the time Hansiegate had hit
his infamy had manifold grown.
He was judged by a media trial
and convicted without appeal.
His every plea of innocence
fell on hearts that no longer did feel.
Nobody knew his guilt for sure
but they were ready to believe.
For they'd trusted him entirely
and he'd just flattered to deceive.
And so the sad story ended
midway through the plot.
The hero was now villain
the vilest of the lot.
I'm not sure of his guilt
I'm not sure of his innocence
I'm not sure of anything anymore
For i've lost my rose tinted lens:-(
On Inzamam
He's the gentlest giant of them all
he's mister take-it-easy Inzy.
But dare u liken him to a potato
and he'll charge you in a frenzy.
'Ode to Federer'
I didnt know when they put in strings
on a magic wand
Till I saw a magician waving one
in his right hand
From impossible angles he conjured up
divine passing shots
Defeated opponents before they'd gathered
their initial thoughts
He possessed no wicked booming serve
nor killer volley
But they found hustling him at the net
was just pure folly
Some hopefuls tried to wear him out
staying right back
Too late they discovered 'twas like torture
on a medieval rack
The biggest of build and the fleetest of foot
were all doomed to fail
Nobody was found who could stand up and fight
and live to tell the tale
So the players pleaded with the ATP bosses
to just slap a ban
Coz a wizard oughtn't to be allowed to play
with a normal man.
the great wall
(Ode to Rahul 'The Wall' Dravid)he's always bin the bridesmaid
but never bin the bride
he's never bin the highest paid
but he sure is India's pride
he'll never run when the heat is on
and is always on the ball
he'll still be there when all are gone
coz he's the great indian wall
And, as a sequel, coz it was felt calling Dravid 'The Wall' was limiting:
they sometimes call him Jammy
they sometimes call him The Wall
but I think that's just barmy
coz now he's the entire Hall.
Ashes 2 Ashes
(
my take on the tremendous Ashes series '05, and the Aussie spirit)
they won everything under the sun
and conquered the farthest frontiers
but the inexorable march of time
had greatly weakened these warriors
weary of mind and battered in body
they threw themselves into the fight
made their last stand on the anglian field
never gave up till there still was light
when the fifth and final battle was done
and the ashes won back with the urn
the victors knew the war wasn't won
for the warriors of oz would one day return.
On Krish Srikkanth,
a man i'd much rather remember for his exploits with the bat, than for his new avatar as TV expert:-(
A twitch, a twirl, a sniff, and a stroll
All before the bowler came to bowl
He was a bundle of unbridled energy
hand and eye in perfect synergy
He had no footwork, nor feline grace
But had his heart in the right place
With twinkling eye and willow mace
He tonked the spin and cut the pace
In his last years he cut a sorry sight
His eye deserted him, nothing went right
He still strode to do battle twitching his nose
But his own eye and hand were his worst foes
He decided he'd had enough, went out in a huff
Sadly not in a blaze of glory, merely a lil puff
But for those of us who had seen him in full flow
He was always the entertainer who didn't ever go slow.
'Postscript'
Years have passed and his hair's streaked with grey
The bat's been retired, but the tongue now does stray
He talks like he played, regardless of the rules
Time he retired, before he's crowned the King of Fools.
On Saniahhhhhhhh Mirza
She's the new face of Indian tennis
the champion of which there was dearth.
She's got more guts than her racquet
and groundstrokes that scorch the earth.
Her forehand is a killer
though its not yet bin arrested.
The better players will make her pay
and tis bound to be sorely tested.
Her service is like that at the Ritz
inoffensive and very polite.
The 2nd serve makes the 1st look good
and is every opponent's delight.
She looks every inch the sportstar
though she needs to shed the pounds.
Her tee shirts vie with her ear rings
for the attention of the newshounds.
Her rankings have bin shooting up
in competition with her hemline
'Fatwa' scream some enraged clerics
tis time she was taught to fall in line.
But as Kuznetsova can tell the mullahs
this lovely lass doesnt easily scare.
She knows the meek may inherit the earth
but the court is ruled by those who dare.
