Seeing as there's a lot of cricket on now!

In Praise of Blenkinsop.







　



Here was a man who played bad cricket.



Bowled short wides, ne’er took a wicket.



Dropped slip catches, always a ‘duck’



Never an ‘eye’ so he trusted luck.



Now his playing days are gone,



Struck by a drive at Silly Mid On,



Caught it with his senseless head,



And fell upon the pitch- Quite dead!



Blenkinsop’s life had come to an end.



He left directions in care of a friend,



Long and involved , but the basis of which-



“To be buried at ‘Lords’ in the centre of pitch.



To be lowered by men, all of whom shall love cricket,



So that I can assist to grow grass on the wicket”

Very good.