[Editor: A poem published in The Eltham and Whittlesea Shires Advertiser and Diamond Creek Valley Advocate, 16 June 1922.]
A Toast to Football.
After witnessing a Football Match at Eltham.
Here’s to the footballer in his snow-white breeks,
And the bloodstains on his rugged cheeks.
To the genial warmth of his happy grin
And the surging joy of his soul within.
Here’s to the crowd and their mighty roars,
As they watch the leather ball that soars,
To their joyful shouts at every goal.
For this awful crowd it has no soul.
Here’s to the umpire and his grim part,
He must be hard to the very heart,
To the curses and hisses which are his lot.
For he’s the villain of the whole jolly plot.
Here’s to the ladies with the strong, strong lungs,
And the incessant clatter of their tongues,
To their cheers, which greet each piece of play,
And their colored ribbons which float so gay.
Here’s to the man who knows all the rules,
Who vows that umpires are all great fools,
To the advice he hurls at each man’s head.
To the wish that he could play instead.
Here’s to the doctor who comes quickly around,
When a gallant player is struck to the ground.
To the broken legs and dismembered arms,
To the game of football and its many charms.
The Eltham and Whittlesea Shires Advertiser and Diamond Creek Valley Advocate (Hurstbridge, Vic.), 16 June 1922, p. 4
breeks = (Scottish) trousers (from “breeches”, short trousers which usually extended to just below the knees)
[Editor: Corrected “villlan” to “villain”.]