Pretty Percy

kiepie

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Pretty Percy

(inspired by Ernest Thayer)



The prospects looked quite dismal, for the Springbok team that day

The score was 13- 20, with a minute left for play



And then when Chester dropped a pass, and James Small did the same,

A deathly silence fell upon the lovers of the game



They didn't Shosoloza, didn't wave the Gold & Green

This was an ugly nightmare, that they had never seen



A straggling few got up to go, heading East or West

But hope still springs eternal, within the human breast



And then we shifted gear, Francois Pienaar led his men

James Dalton crashed across the line, we're in the game again



The conversion by the flyhalf went sailing through the posts

The All Blacks turned All White it seemed, just like startled ghosts



And when the final whistle blew, our relief, we couldn't hide it

The scores were surely level, and the World Cup undecided



So now the weary players had a bigger hill to climb

They went back on the field again, to play some Extra Time



With a minute left for battle, the score was zero zero

It was the golden moment for a man to be a hero



The scrum was on their 22, the forwards played their role

Joost got the ball quite cleanly, and flicked it back to Joel



The time stood still, it seemed to me, the stars were all aligned

The memory is etched upon the hard disk of my mind:



The dropkick is a beauty, Stransky turns around, he knows

It flies straight through the middle, as that famous photo shows



Well, Ellispark erupted, the roar was heard for miles

Francois and Madiba both had great big toothy smiles



The trophy called Webb Ellis, was safely in our hands

We'd shown we were superior, in all the rugby lands.....



And now we have moved on a bit, a dozen years or more

The All Blacks came to Paris, to even up the score







The French team fell out early, the Pommies followed suit

The Wallabies, well what the Hell, we soon gave them the boot



And now it was the Springboks and the All Blacks once again

Our paths just keep on crossing, like a bitter-sweet refrain



The 'Stade de France' was packed that day, thousands came to see

In RSA were millions more , who watched it on TV



But first there was the rigmarole, they did their stupid Haka

Our boys just stood there, thinking : What a load of ***a



The game was fiercely fought, of course,and both sides did their best

'Cause this was hailed to be "The Super Rugby Test"



At first the All Blacks struggled, they somehow looked inept

Habana scored a quick try, from his usual intercept



The lineouts we were winning, we had the right idea

Vic Matfield jumped a metre high, as good as Frik du Preez



At halftime we were still ahead, despite some wayward passes

And Jake White talked and screamed a bit, and kicked their tired arses



The commentators thought that we were doing quite fantastic

Naas Botha, on de udder hand, was not enthusiastic



The second half was much the same, it's neither here nor there

Schalk Burger played his heart out, his white mane everywhere



And then he met disaster, the card was coloured Red

He had quite accidentally, stepped on Carter's head



The armchair refs at home went wild, their protests were quite violent

When all their toys were out the cot, they finally fell silent



With only 14 men on hand, John Smit fought like a lion

But the men in black were made of stuff as tough as Iscor iron



They scrummed, they ran, they scored some tries, they filled our hearts with fear

And when the dust had settled, they were one point in the clear



( I thought of Danie Craven: How would he behave now?

If he were alive still, he'd be turning in his grave now )









With a minute left for battle, and Doomsday all around

It was the golden moment, for a new king to be crowned



The scrum was on their 22, like back in ' 95

And now the forwards, one man short, they kept the game alive



Now Os du Rand was moving, advancing down the wicket

Oops, I seem to be confused, this simply isn't cricket :- )



But serious, big Os and friends, surged forward like a tide

And next that oval thing came out, quite cleanly on our side



The scrumhalf passed that ball out, swiftly and with flair

To the tall & handsome fullback, who was waiting way back there



And once again the time stood still, it was like deja vu

I felt I'd seen this all before, and tell me, haven't you?



The past and present all at once, had now become entwined

While I dredged that glory picture from the recess of my mind



Percy was poised perfectly, he knew it was his call

He let fly with a dropkick, he nearly burst that ball



It sped up from that left boot, like a bullet from a rifle

It soared up straight and higher than the tower known as Eiffel



Now sometime in the future, when finally you are sober

Remember that old rugby match, in Paris in October



You think that life's just great, my friend, but I must tell you this:

Pour another Klipdrif, pal, poor Percy's drop was miss
 
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