Explore "The Old Professional" by Norman Gale on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Sixty years since the game begun, Sir, / Sixty years since I took the crease! / Sixty years in the rain an' sun, Sir, / Death's been tryin' to end my lease. / Oh, but he's sent me down some corkers, / Given me lots of nasty jobs; / Mixed length-balls with his dazzlin' Yorkers, / Kickers an' shooters, grubs an' lobs!
Here I've stood, an' I've met him smilin', / Takin' all of his nasty bumps; / Grantin' at times his luck was rilin' / When reg'lar fizzers tickled the stumps. / Playin' him straight an' storin' breath, Sir, / Closely watchin' his artful wrist, / I've had a rare old tussle with Death, Sir, / Slammin' the loose 'uns, smotherin' twist!