"Scarborough Fare"
It is that time of year again, and Lilleshall are on tour,
though numbers are a little down, we're getting fewer and fewer.
And Captain Em has not been well, and isn't here this time,
so I've been doing what I can to keep you lot in line.
This year we've come to Yorkshire, for pudding and strong beer,
'cause last time it was Plymouth, so we can't go there this year!
So Scarborough has to face the brunt, of Shropshire's bowling onslaught,
of tails won and songs well sung and matches keenly fought.
We've yet another driver, we never get one twice,
it's not that we're not kind to them, it's not that we're not nice.
But certain of our ladies are prone to make advances,
and only the very fittest lads can afford to take their chances!
This year we've been provided with a driver name of Dean,
the sort who really gets stuck in, if you know what I mean.
He's ruffled a few feathers, and caused a bit of fuss,
by the way he helps the ladies getting on and off the bus!
I always thought our tours were planned with military precision,
but now I know there's quite a bit of rampant indecision.
It isn't easy reading maps whilst hurtling round the bends,
but whate'r happened on the way, we got there in the end.
Now Sylvie R and Joan - they got a nasty shock,
when on first entering their room, the door they did unlock.
For a twin had been requested, the letter clearly said,
but there, in all its glory, was one enormous bed.
That wasn't the only faux pas, concerning sleeping beds,
there was another problem, that caused some aching heads.
'Cause Ruth and Herbert Griffiths, they felt such real chumps,
their room had twin beds, sure enough - arranged as double bunks!
There's one thing on our tours, that happens every year,
and always raises many smiles, and frequently a cheer.
It's made its own tradition, brings enjoyment, never fails,
this year it was upon day one that AP won a tail!
Supporting Alan Palmer in this most momentous feat,
his co-conspirators in crime were Margaret, Clare and Pete (B),
and at the spectrum's other end, the winning rink you see,
was Jo and Alan Ghaut, and Audrey A, and little me!
The Sylvias had hatched a plan, so we our win could show,
a scarecrow cockerel on a stick - so we could really "crow"!
So that's the best and worst, for match one - Nafferton,
and Gren was happy that this game by twenty-five was won.
'Cause all our rinks got well stuck in, they really did their job,
and quite a few wise punters acquired a couple of bob.
The lady skip playing opposite me, exchanged a gentle kiss,
it seems it was an opportunity she didn't want to miss.
I pointed out that Alan Ghaut is also of beard persuasion,
I thought that this would pave the way for friendly osculation.
She said "Well yes, but not like yours" - I didn't know what to say,
"'Cause yours is dark and bristly, but his is soft and grey!"
You have to shut the inner gate, when exiting the lift,
or else the thing just shuts up shop - won't even try to shift.
And Pauline got herself stuck in it, heartbeat getting quicker,
she kept on going up and down, just like a call-girl's knickers!
Now Tuesday was Trafalgar Day, so to view our ocean realm,
we set off down to Hornsea, Capt'n George was at the helm.
We hoped that in the afternoon, our woods were not at sea,
and like Horatio Nelson, we'd score a victory.
We stopped off on the journey, to take in Flamborough Head,
the nearest head I'd get to, some joker kindly said!
And once again we did the biz - we had four winning rinks,
which must be cause for celebration - and a round of drinks.
Now AP didn't want a second tail upon his rear,
and must have filled his ladies three with terror and with fear.
So Frances, Aud(rey) and Celia (B), they piled in shots a plenty,
and Alan added one or two, to finish top - plus twenty.
The losing rinks, both minus twelve, at first could not be split,
'cause if the truth be known, they both had played ... quite badly.
But counting back on shots and ends, the tails had to go,
to skip Mike Hubbard and his rink, that's Don and Frank and Jo.
Now Alan Ghaut he takes our bets, and jealously guards the money,
with care and dedication, like Pooh with jars of honey.
His energy's unbounded, he really never flags,
until he's divvied winnings out in little plastic bags.
On Wednesday down to Hull we went, some sixty miles or so,
and drove through all the weather the forecasters could throw.
An afternoon without the rain, of that I was quite sure,
I'd bought some bowling waterproofs a mere few hours before!
Alas we couldn't win the match, just two rinks got the hots,
so Kingston tamed the tigers - we lost by sixteen shots.
And though that was unfortunate, it's nor-bad as it seems,
'cause Kingston's side were fortified by half the Yorkshire team!
I thought I'd bowled a wonder-wood, I chased it up the rink,
it took the shot when we had been at least four down I think.
Their skip? Completely unimpressed, she didn't even frown,
her first wood drew my stunner off and left us still two down!
Now Grenville found it novel, to play an outside rink,
but posted a result that really made the ladies think.
'Cause all his rink were XY stock (that's male to you and me)
with Don at lead and Herbert two, and Frank at number three.
And Mike had grown accustomed to the tiger and the tail,
and despite all his efforts to avoid repeat ... he failed.
So he picked up his second tail, with Margaret, Clare and Peter,
I have to say that on Clare's tail, our tails look much neater!
And now you realise the clever move upon my part,
the Presidents played together, but the Captains played apart.
That little bit of subterfuge did just my honour save,
or else it could have been OUR rink, turned o'er by Captain Dave.
Joan's got a nice red buggy, she loves it oh so dearly,
she hurtles round the Scarborough roads pulling G-forces and wheelies.
And if she sees a nice young man, a strong and muscle-bound fellow,
she puts her foot down to the floor, like Rubens Barrichello.
Ferrari, Williams and Minardi better start to fret,
the way Joan drives, Team Lilleshall is next year's F1 threat.
We had a little indoor match that drew a modest crowd,
two falls or two submissions to decide - no wicks allowed.
Mike Hubbard and myself took on AP and Den,
we played it as a half-length match, with counting ends just ten.
I'm pleased to say we left AP and Den with wounds to lick,
'cause Mike and I, the underdogs, we won by 16-6.
The height of sheer misfortune, and depth of skill were delved,
and that's how we four bowlers made an exhibition of ourselves!
We've had a range of games and raffles, lots of different prizes,
quite a few in bottle form, plus one or two surprises.
How wonderfully appropriate, it really must be said,
the biscuits that our Dennis won were made from butter SHORT-bread!
Burniston & Cloughton were our oppos for day four,
and we were looking for a win and not a loss or draw.
We got our win by twenty-one, and had four winning rinks,
Pauline, Herbert, Pete (E) & Peter (A) were the weakest link.
To keep the record all complete, the winning rink that day,
was George and Jo and Sylvia, and AP (sad to say)!
But the most amazing story of the day - our super rink,
how Mike and Audrey, Clare and Peter (B) pulled back from the brink.
Around the ten-end marker, they trailed fifteen to one,
but turned it round to win by nine at thirty, twenty-one.
It seems they had a trump card, and played it, don't you see,
the one that's from Monopoly - "Get out of jail free!"
Next year's tour is Devon, it's Torquay once again,
which hopefully will minimise the chance of getting rain.
There's a change of organisers, it's Grenville and it's Clare,
sending invitations and hoping we'll be there.
So come on all you tigers, get names down on the list,
for bowling fun and frolics, while absolutely ... relaxed.
That is the story so far, there's just one day to go,
I'd really like to thank you for the great support you've showed.
An honour and a privilege, to lead this tour you know,
and should you want me back next year, you know my answers ... "OK then!"
That leaves me just with one more thing that I must really do,
thank all the folks who've worked so hard to make it fun for you.
That's Silv and Sylv who ran the tour, and Alan Ghaut the bookie,
Mike and Pete (B) and Celia (B), our first-time tour rookies.
Captain Gren and lovely Clare, for rinks of fantasy,
and all who gave us raffle prizes absolutely free.
And Dennis Collins and AP, the butts of all our jesting,
and Jo for looking glamorous in outfits quite arresting.
And anyone I have missed out, please take your thanks as read,
for I have written most of this very late, and in my bed.
Should anyone ask you "was the tour good?", answer resolutely,
in just the way that Emrys would - you just say ... "Absolutely!"
Tour Post-Script
That was the story thus far, up to the final night,
and now I will complete the tale, for your fun and delight.
On Friday we set off for home, but stopped off on the way,
at Selby's lovely bowls club, to show them our best play.
Sylvie R she took control as Captain of the day,
and did a most impressive job, so I am bound to say.
We played up well, and did our best, fighting hard, but never dirty,
and notched the score we're looking for, a win by shots plus thirty.
And Grenville had the winning rink, a great result he forged,
with Peter Elkin, Celia Bould and President, our George.
The losing rink, with tails on, alas I'm sad to say,
was Alan Palmer, Peter Bould, myself and Audrey A.
Best bowler of the week by fiendish sums worked out, apace,
was Celia Bould with Grenville close behind in second place.
And Pauline's rink of fantasy turned out to be most frisky,
so she's the lucky winner of a bottle of Bell's malt whisky.
And Dean he went to buy a mop, the coach floor to sluice out,
and twirled it round quite vigorously, showing off - there is no doubt.
And serves him right, 'cause then what happened made us laugh and cough,
before he'd even got it wet the mop-head fell right off!
So that's the complete story, this ode is at an end,
to all the clubs that welcomed us, best wishes to we send.
I'm sure we all enjoyed ourselves, when all is said and done,
it was a most successful tour - played five, won four, lost one!