Poetry by Jeff Green

1243–The_finest_test.html

The finest test

by cricketjeff on August 1, 2008.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

A deathless hush descends on Lord’s; the debutante takes guard,
    then twirls her bat and looks around the field.
The press could not believe it when they handed out the card
    And Marshall was the name that was revealed.
She isn’t quite the youngest that has ever played the game,
That means she may not have much time to try to make her name.

An Aussie dragon breathing fire has started on her run,
    Marie just taps her bat and concentrates.
A long hop three feet outside off, she smacks a four for fun,
    Resumes her stance and silently she waits.
The next ball is defended and she plays the straightest bat,
Then thinks I wish that Pietersen would play it more like that.

The ball’s too full, she drives it hard, long on can only sprawl;
    The bowler glares and Marshall whispers “four”.
She’s pretty sure a bouncer’s next, she hooks away the ball
    Another glare this time’s the whisper’s “more”.
The Women’s Ashes can be won and Marshall is our man
And riling up the bowlers always features in her plan.

The scoring mounts, Marie looks sure, the Aussies start to wilt;
    A N’awlins maid in raptures in the crowd.
As Marshall’s lays foundations and a winning score is built
    The other fans are getting rather loud.
The finest flower of Scotland is now England’s batting Queen,
The greatest start this ancient ground has surely ever seen.

Two hundred runs before she’s out, the umpire cops a glare
    She doesn’t think the ball was cleanly caught,
But finally she walks away, sometimes she must play fair,
    Some people think that cricket is a sport!
No more to tell, the days unfold, and yes the test is won.
If you must know the margin, England won by fifty one.

Author notes

For a friend!