Sing Song

To the tune of American Pie!

Not so long ago,
I can still remember how that rugby final made me smile.
And I knew if we had our chance
that we could muller Wales and France
and maybe we'd be happy for a while.
But Saturday made the Aussies shiver
with every point our boys delivered.
Bad news, Mr Gregan;

your coach is worse than Keegan.
I can't remember if I sighed when I watched our Jason score the try.

But something made me howl with pride
the day the Aussies cried.
Say bye bye; go and eat humble pie.
Always beat you when we meet you.
It's no word of a lie.
and England boys will drink their beer through the night
singing "Aussie rugby union is sh*te".
"Aussie rugby union is sh*te".

We stick to the book of rules
and we still make Aussies look like fools.
Everybody knows it's true.

And we do believe in ruck and maul
While Aussies always drop the ball and
can we teach them how to drop real goals.

Well I knew that day you wouldn't win
cos I saw you training in the gym.
You lobbed the ball around
but you didn't make any ground.
Your were a bunch of useless Wallabies
Oh you think you're great but are just wannabe's.

But I knew you'd be on your knees
the day we crushed your pride.
I started singing;
Bye bye, Billy's ours. Gotta gloat:

Off to England; yes, that's ENGLAND.
Don't that stick in your throat.
and Aussie press will have to eat what they wrote.
Singing "Come on, Campo, give us a quote".

"Come on, Campo, give us a quote".
I met a man called Eddy Jones.
His voice was thick with winging tones.
he just cried and moaned all day.

He claimed the English were a bore
but I'd heard that bullshit years before
and the fact was that the Aussies couldn't play.
On the pitch the English roared.
The feeble Aussie pack was floored.

Not a word was spoken.
The Aussie dream was broken.
And the one man that he feared the most,
when England took it to their hosts;
He put the ball right through the posts

the day.........the Aussies.....cried.
And he was singing'

Bye bye, so we both got a try.
It's so boring when your scoring
against rugby's small fry.
And Woodward's boys will drink their beers through the night
singing Kefu, Jones and Gregan are sh*te.
Kefu, Jones and Gregan are sh*te.

Supreme Court Case In Australia

A seven year old Aussie boy was at the centre of a courtroom drama last week when he challenged a court ruling over who should have custody of the boy.

The boy has a history of being beaten by his parents and the judge awarded custody to his aunt. The boy confirmed that his aunt beat him more than his parents and refused to live there.

When the judge suggested that he live with his grandparents the boy cried out that they beat him more than anyone.

The judge dramatically allowed the boy to choose who should have custody of him.

Custody was granted to the Aussie rugby team this morning as the boy firmly believes that they are not capable of beating anyone.

Why rugby is definitely worth a try

I read this in the Daily Mail. Brilliant.
I think all rugby players feel this way.

Why rugby is definitely worth a try

With the prospect of rugby fever engulfing the nation and parents deliberating over whether or not they should allow their offspring to participate in what is traditionally seen as a somewhat dangerous sport, may I offer my own perspective?

I played rugby from the age of 11 to 35. I have cauliflower ears, a broken nose, arthritic elbows and a collapsed vertebra that means I will have to take painkillers for the rest of my life. I have cracked ribs and broken fingers more times than I care to remember and stopped playing only when a knee joint demanded either extensive surgery or walking away from the game while I still could walk.

On the other hand, I also received the friendship and camaraderie of some truly wonderful people from all sections of society and from all creeds.
Just as important, I discovered a confidence in myself, engendered by stretching myself both physically and mentally beyond previously unimagined limits.
I learned to enjoy victory (sometimes) and to cope with defeat (many times) without ever losing the urge to compete. I learned teamwork, fair play, integrity, respect and resolution.
I learned the values of life.

So I would say to any parent: have no fears, encourage your children, support them and watch them grow into the people you would like them to be. I have no regrets at all: I loved playing the game, I love watching the game and always will.

Besides, breaking my nose completely cured my sinus problem.

David Branchett
Leyland, Lancs

Instructions to Your Manager

Rules For Work:

1. Never give me work in the morning. Always wait until 4:00 and then bring it to me. The challenge of a deadline is refreshing.
2. If it's really a rush job, run in and interrupt me every 10 minutes to inquire how it's going. That helps. Even better, hover behind me, and advise me at every keystroke.
3. Always leave without telling anyone where you're going. It gives me a chance to be creative when someone asks where you are.
4. If my arms are full of papers, boxes, books, or supplies, don't open the door for me. I need to learn how to function as a paraplegic and opening doors with no arms is good training in case I should ever be injured and lose all use of my limbs.
5. If you give me more than one job to do, don't tell me which is priority. I am psychic.
6. Do your best to keep me late. I adore this office and really have nowhere to go or anything to do. I have no life beyond work.
7. If a job I do pleases you, keep it a secret. If that gets out, it could mean a promotion.
8. If you don't like my work, tell everyone. I like my name to be popular in conversations. I was born to be whipped.
9. If you have special instructions for a job, don't write them down. In fact, save them until the job is almost done. No use confusing me with useful information.
10. Never introduce me to the people you're with. I have no right to know anything. In the corporate food chain, I am plankton. When you refer to them later, my shrewd deductions will identify them.
11. Be nice to me only when the job I'm doing for you could really change your life and send you straight to manager's hell.
12. Tell me all your little problems. No one else has any and it's nice to know someone is less fortunate. I especially like the story about having to pay so many taxes on the bonus check you received for being such a good manager.
13. Wait until my yearly review and THEN tell me what my goals SHOULD have been. Give me a mediocre performance rating with a cost of living increase. I'm not here for the money anyway.