Poem to accompany SHACKLEFORD match report

X1 Un-Shackled Melodies
Eleven VCC journeys to victory, May 31st, 2009

Cap’n Mad
Eggs Benedict, comme d’habitude
And soixante-neuf runs on the horizon over the hills

Lord Oz
Vice, in all but appointment
Glowering, like a flickering seventies John Player Special super- king

El Horno da Crema
Twinkling, with mischievous relish
Strutting the boulevards of Belsize to brunch, al fresco in navy shorts

The Colonel
Brooding – and brilliantly breakfasting alone:
A heart of quiet tropical thunder prepares

Aussie Steve
Bearded, returns from the Red Centre
Pink wicket and Grey victim awaiting his new pace

And dearest Adelaide-y
Rocks up like a jewel with Riviera hair and shades
Failing to disguise the sporting self-doubt we have all felt, so many times

Hurdo International
Russian lover, Brazilian Tee and emanating Oriental guile
Eccentrically, all over his French toast and Canadian maple syrup

Maxim
A true man today
Caught in a private life crisis and coping stoically

Salmon
Leaping ever closer to manhood: Vampiretta-scarred but
Propelled toward victory with the effervescent wizardry of youth

Rob
A muscled, futuristic machine in burnished Currymen Grey
Powers him down grim, uncertain corridors of tarmac to his secret destiny

And I –
Lost and idiotically wondering ahead
To this day of giggling heroics, easy friendship and un-shackled fun.