School Sports Day (Poetry)

I’ve been entered this year for the high jump.
No one asked — my name pulled from the hat.
My house captain insists I must practise.
No excuses — it seems that is that.

Are there no volunteers for the discus?
And our relay team’s fearfully thin...
In the silence that followed her comment
one might hear the faint drop of a pin.

A whole raft of quite ludicrous reasons
were given in hope of release —
we’re so keen to perform other duties
and thus end the day still in one piece.

But our captain has eyes for the trophy —
a born hockey girl — sport in the blood.
She seems happiest out in all weathers
right up to her shin guards in mud.

So, no pleading, no weedling offers
of bribery, favours or threat
can budge her. She scowls like a storm cloud
her mind and expression both set.

Samantha’s been told she’ll do hurdles
and Doreen is frightened to bits
at the thought she’s third man in the relay
and it’s shredding what’s left of her wits.

While Penelope’s pressed into running
the fifty yard dash — she’s no choice
but to kit herself out and get training
deep resentment the edge in her voice.

Posh Jacqueline vows she will never
be dragooned to do any event.
Her too-delicate nerves couldn’t stand it —
she’ll decamp to her folks down in Kent.

We’re all in the dumps at the prospect
of Sports Day — the reason is clear —
it’s not just the physical effort
it’s embarrassing failure we fear.

Some of us simply aren’t sporty
and are much more at home with our books
while some can’t be doing with either —
their whole future relies on good looks.

But to force us all out in the open
to perform in the sun, wind and rain
well, I’ll argue that’s really not cricket
and a long way from playing the game.

I’ve no doubt we’ll survive but it’s certain
things will go as they’ve done in the past —
the inevitable string of disasters.
I’ll lay odds that our house will come last!