So now my friends, the time has come, to recap on the week.
To review events and happenings - achievements, so to speak.
Our regular bowls tourists will surely know the score,
But for our new recruits I will explain a little more.
Wherever you have been, at any time of day,
My spies have been observing, and noting what you say.
For all your misdemeanours, you'll not get off the hook,
'Cause all the saucy details are written in my book!
And so we went to Eastbourne, and though we mustn't boast,
We had a most successful tour, down there upon the coast.
It is a rather sleepy town, but our ages are not weighty,
We brought the average age in Eastbourne down to almost eighty.
All were on best behaviour, they kept their noses clean,
There were few indiscretions or misdemeanours seen.
And without that material it's difficult you know,
To write a truly epic ode - but still I had a go!
Now last year Mike and Lizzie, they bought me this big hat,
To make me look a real fool, to make me look a prat.
It's in our own club colours, of yellow, red and blue,
I tell you what - I'll put it on - but only 'cause it's you.
We had a Longmynd driver, who goes by name of Del,
He hurtles down the motorway just like a bat from hell,
But we are all experienced, we've had his type before,
We know the safest place to be is face-down, on the floor.
Now on the dual carriage-way his direction didn't fail,
But once inside the services it was a different tale.
Round and round and round we went, it was a real lark,
The wrong way up a one-way street to find the coaching park.
The first match was at Pope's Mead, that's where Claire's parents play,
So Grenville had to be on best behaviour all that day!
The game was tight, the score was moving each way - nip and tuck,
And in the end we sneaked ahead and won by eight - what luck.
So Palmer won the pot that day with George and Frank and Peter (A),
If only I had backed them then that would have been much sweeter.
The first up of our "Weakest Rinks" put up performance plucky,
And on the day it must be said they were just SO unlucky.
'Cause Alan (G), Alan (W), Den and me, we scored in shots but nine,
Despite us battling of our best and trying all the time.
We were the real heroes though, you see that was our fate,
WE won that game for Lilleshall, who won the game by eight!
For sunglasses, the smartest pair were worn by Dennis Blake.
I expect they are designer, or maybe just a fake.
They really are so very smart, in wrap-around black vinyl,
So what a shame they dropped right off and fell in the urinal!
And then there is Maid Marian, a real robbing hood,
She takes the money off us, even when we're good.
She's watching us at every turn, it is just like Big Brother,
We're fined for this, we're fined for that - and probably for the other!
It is the best job for her, she's found her true position,
She even tried to extract fines from all the opposition.
Now Alan Winters ventured where he shouldn't have, said the rumours,
And entered in the Ladies' room, while they were in their bloomers.
We're not quite sure just what he saw, but it must have made him think,
He ended up a quarter of our very first "Weakest Rink".
But Alan wasn't the only one to cause some gender tension,
There was another incident that I feel bound to mention.
Our fine-mistress was witnessed, entering with intent,
And exiting again, having first used, the Gents.
The second match was Heathfield, a place called Cross in Hand,
So off we trooped with all our kit, a truly happy band.
The day got better, it is true, another game was won,
And losing rinks were very few, in fact 'twas only one.
Our President, she took the lead, with Geoff at number two,
But all their work was soon undone, by a chap named Dinky Doo.
Geoff was struggling manfully to give the head a clout,
He put in so much effort, his false teeth came right out.
And Pauline couldn't stop the rot, no matter how she tried,
So Chalkie found a comfy home by Alan Palmer's side.
On our rink we did struggle, had Chalkie at half time.
But later on we took a seven (though I measured up for nine!)
And George he blamed he rink - in terms undignifying,
He said that what it needed was "a b****y good scarifying!"
And Dennis claimed he'd struggle, and not have much success,
Because his rink was populated by the fairer sex.
That was a most unfair remark, to Celia, Claire and Jean,
And would be proven most unjust, as was soon to be seen.
For they laid down the top-most score, their game was really hot,
And it definitely was the pretty ones who put in all the shots.
And when the medals were presented, Geoff caused some surprise,
By dashing from the changing room still doing up his ... cufflinks,
But that does not complete the tale, for I can dish more dirt,
Pauline was also missing, and was without her skirt!
Now Audrey Attwood has a tip to get to sleep at night,
She says with drinking chocolate she's right out like a light.
But Peter had a cunning plan - his eye a twinkle got,
As soon as he was in the room he threw away the lot!
And Jean and Peter's mattress, it lasted but one night,
It seemed they rolled together, and that just can't be right.
But with the new replacement it was fantastic in their bed,
Deeper, thicker, firmer - I'm sure that's what Jean said.
There have been deep discussions, and conflabs over drinks,
On where to place our money, which were the loaded rinks.
We placed our bets with Alan Ghaut, our money he did take.
The only time I won I bet on Collins - by mistake!
(I wrote that line some days ago, and now it isn't true.
'Cause Alan came up trumps for me with all his lovely crew.)
He counts out mounting piles of change and rushes to the bank,
So we can have our flutter fun, so Alan - many thanks.
Our waiter, Chris, a handsome chap, he makes the ladies swoon,
The trouble is not everything can match up to his spoon.
But he and all his colleagues, whose names I can't recall,
Have really served us very well and we do thank them all.
We went off to a concert with a splendid army band,
The conductor in his uniform, his baton in his hand.
Now Beryl took a liking to this man in uniform,
She noted that his lower legs, they had a shapely form.
"He's got such lovely calves" she said, "they make his trousers crease,"
And then she started drooling, and went weak at the knees.
But then the concert finished, the band moved off afar,
So sorry Beryl, you'll not see his lovely oom-pah-pah!
Now Sylvie for a reason, she thought that it was best,
To see her room-mate got some sleep, to see she got some rest.
And so she kept on getting up, to the bathroom she kept darting,
She didn't want to wake Claire up with all her noisy ... snoring.
The third match on the Wednesday was up on the Parade,
And though we lacked some strength in depth how wonderful we played.
'Cause Emrys was all smiles - he couldn't hide his glee,
Lilleshall's touring winning streak had made it up to three.
Alan Ghaut and Annie, with Frances and with Jo,
Laid down the highest difference score, put on the finest show.
The losing rink was George and Frank and Margaret and Ted,
So George had dear old Chalkie to take up to his bed.
(Although the idea crossed his mind to jump off Beachy Head!)
Now Pauline went to take a soak with bubble-bath and potions,
And loads of other beauty things like perfume and smooth lotions.
To make herself look wonderful, to make herself feel fine,
She didn't have to rush the job, she had a lot of time.
She settled in the water warm, beneath the scented foam,
She really felt quite sensuous, 'twas a shame she was alone!
And then the trouble started, as she tried to get out,
The details of the incident she didn't spread about.
The goo had made it greasy, she slithered and she slipped,
Marooned just like a spider - she couldn't get a grip!
Now here's a little story that you may not all know.
Derek sidled out one night to take a stroll with Jo.
I gather that he promised to take her to a disco,
His navigation's not too hot - they ended up in Tesco!
We've had a very lively time, while we've been on vacation,
Our line-dance team they worked so hard they needed embrocation.
We've slung our coins at bottles, and mostly missed by miles,
We've had ice-cream upon the pier and nights-out on the tiles.
We've eaten English breakfasts, and puds that broke our diets,
And sung outside so noisily they told us to be quiet.
We've listened to 60's records and sung along the words,
Stampeded on the dance floor, like wildebeests in herds.
And Claire she danced seductively, with moves we couldn't follow,
That's probably why our Grenville looked so hot under the collar.
Even I was dancing, the moves - you should have seen me,
But Palmer stole the show that night - our very own Ovalteenie!
As we were waiting for the coach our Lizzie had a smile,
'Cause Mike had used the cash-point - he hadn't done that for a while.
He likes to keep it prudent, he doesn't think it funny,
If Liz goes dashing round the town and spending all their money.
And so he put it somewhere safe, where it could not be poached,
In a wallet, in his bowls bag, in a locker, on the coach!
He's got a low-slung money belt and always does employ it,
That way if Lizzie grabs the cash there's a chance he will enjoy it!
The schedule for the Thursday had me blowing cold and hot,
It said it was at Hampden Park, my God! - we're playing the Scots!
With Grenville Captain for the day, we had no great incent to play
But though the opps played as they should, on five of six we were too good.
But Russ and Jean and Ted's wife Kath, sent Mike off for an early bath,
So they had gongs and looked a sight, and Mike had Chalkie for the night.
Now Peter Attwood's bowling crew, to win the kitty needed two,
But on the last end they held one, when Peter's final wood was done.
The oppo skip did all she could, but only knocked up Pete's SHORT wood
And so the winner was decided by a wood that didn't stay where he'd fired it!
I had quite a tidy game and bowled my very own "wonder wood"
I set it off upon its track towards the jack just like it should.
But then a bandit came in view, towards the kitty - no way through
But then it fell, my wood could pass, as their short bowl fell on it's ... side
And now I know 'twas cash well spent, to buy that "anti-wick" ointment!
Sylvie R and Sylvie L, they've planned the tour just great,
And in the bingo lingo, their our own eighty-eight!
They've put in such a lot of work, we really do them thank,
They've thought of almost everything - 'cept a bus-pass for our Frank!
Next year we go a different way, according to the tales,
We're going to be like Jonah, we're going to be in Wales.
I have one reservation, there's one thing wrong with that,
'Cause Emrys will be singing, very loud and very flat!
Tomorrow Chalkie comes of age, he really is a wise old sage.
For it is his game twenty-one, and we must strive to get it won.
The tour is nearly over, there's just one game to play,
Whichever way that game turns out then surely we can say.
Whoever wins or loses, whoever wins the gongs,
Whoever's late for breakfast, or forgets the words to songs.
We've played up well, we've done our best, as can be plainly seen,
And made a lot of great new friends both on and off the green.
We all have had a cracking time, we all have had a ball,
The one thing left for me to say - a resounding "Thank you all".
Now here's a little post-script, that you've not seen before,
To document the outcome of the week - the final score.
You see we finished five of five, we won the Charlbury match,
There can be no denying, we're in a purple patch.
It started off a battle royal, 'tween Alans P and C
For they had posted dozens by ends just two or three.
But Peter (A) had a strategy, I'm sure it was on purpose,
He caught those hares by steady play - just like the famous tortoise!
But then his lead was threatened, 'cause Emrys he did urge
His rink to keep their heads up and make a final surge.
Shot differences were equal, controversy - 'twas lots
'Cause Peter's side had won more ends, but Emrys had more shots.
And so our Chairman tossed a coin and Peter was the winner
His team was Sandra Palmer, Quentin Smith and Alan Winters.
The "Weakest Rink" it moved around, but finished up - what glee!
With second gongs for Alan (P) and Mike Caird, his number three.
With Audrey A and Annie it looked a strong front-end,
But they didn't have enough shots to be able to defend.
For though they started like a train their oppos did their stuff,
They ended up with just a draw, and that was not enough.
Now Derek likes the look of bowls, he's said he'd like to play.
He says he's going to join the club (if he can find the way!)
The sweep for best tour bowler, was won by five points clear,
By someone who both skipped and lead in this, our finest year.
So it was Peter Attwood who had the highest score,
A truly great performance - and well worth waiting for!
All has been recorded, and so, my bowling friends.
The ode is really over now, this is the very end.