The Veterans

I watched some old men run today

I saw them chase the ball

Send one down at their best speed and

shout and laugh and call

“Yes” then “no” then

“shit, sorry mate,

the spirit is willing but

the legs aren’t great … and

if I go too fast I’ll fall.”



Not one tried to pretend at youth

(a lost cause at this stage)

but gee it was great to see them play

and not concede to age

Those with lids of thinning grey

might once have had thick mops

but a carpark with some empty space

is better than vacant lots

and it’s better to comb than shave.



The batsmen aimed some lusty blows

one bowler was seen to sweat

A steady pursuit of a well struck ball

is as fast as a bloke can get

The Captain stode to the crease

to set a good example

A mighty swing … but they caught the thing

and he left, without a sample

and his bird is quacking yet.



Some moved with surprising stealth

as they ran up to the wickets

or timed the ball with life-long ease

‘till it rattled on the pickets

Others took a lesser role

just content to play their part

only there with the love of the game

written on sleave and heart.



Thank God the rain stayed in away

so these blokes to could have their head

and prove old mates companionship

doesn’t always need a shed

It matters not if they laugh or hurt

It’s not their youth they try to capture

It’s mates … the game … oh I can’t explain

being lost among the rapture

not confined upon a bed.



The ump calls time and stumps are drawn

Last runs have been recorded

A few beers later … the strangest thing

Their worries have been reordered

Not from deeds achieved on the field

Not even from a few cold wet ones

But from holding each other up …

There’s honour among these Veterans

and another day has been rewarded.



(pictured) Hunter Lord Taveners & Mid North Coast