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Showing posts with label cricket song. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cricket song. Show all posts

He falls to rise - Rishabh Pant

by Gaurav Sethi

He falls

He falls
He falls 

He falls at the striker’s end 
He falls 
He falls at the non-striker’s end 
He falls 

He falls 
To rise 
To fall 
To rise 
To fall 

He falls as he sweeps you 
He falls 
He falls as he creeps up on you 
He falls 
He falls as he reverse sweeps you 
He falls 
To rise 

He falls 
He falls with one hand on the bat 
He falls 
He falls with one hand on your balls 
He falls 
As he barely completes a run 
He falls 
As he barely makes it into the 90s
He falls 
To rise 

My boy, Rishabh Pant 
He falls 
My man, Rishabh Pant 
He falls 
To rise 

And if he didn’t fall
And if his team didn’t fall 
What good would this rise have been
If he didn’t fall at all 

He falls 
That’s a one handed six 
He falls 
That’s a one handed six 
He falls 
That’s a one handed clap 
He falls 
That’s a one handed thumbs up
Of course

He’s squealing 
He’s freewheeling 
He’s sealing 
The match 
Across foreign shores 
He’s my boy, Rishabh Pant 
He falls 
My man, Rishabh Pant 
He falls 
To rise 

To rise 
He falls 
To rise 
He falls 
To rise 

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Mr Benaud: Death of a gentleman.

by Gaurav Sethi


“A boy, just beginning...25 years of age...baggy green number 408.”
“His father’s best mate...son, brother, fighter, friend...inspiration.”
“Phillip Hughes, forever rest in peace, son.”


I have time for you, Mr Benaud
I have acres of time for you, Mr Benaud
It’s taken me half your life to know that
It’s taken me all my life to know that
It’s taken your life
And it’s taken your death
For me to know
It’s time to slow down
Wait at the kerb of a sentence
Wait mid sentence
Wait
Just like that
Like this

Drop words like teardrops
Drop words like teardrops
Like they’re hardwired to the heart
Hold words back like tears
Hold words back like tears
Like they’re hardwired to the mind
Like they’re meant to be.

Oh, you, Cohen of cricket,
Oh, you, Cohen of cricket,
On your knees, serenading us
With a twinkle in that eye of blue
With a twinkle served with that Sydney sky of blue
Crisp as cotton, ironed and creased
Crisp as the cover drive, ironed and teased
Just about there, just about there
A prod, a push, a fable, all timing
Never a nick, nor an edge, all timing
“Simply superb”

Through the 80s and the 90s
At 5:30 in the AM
Through the haze of bleary childhood sleep
I hear ya, Mr Benaud
“Morning everyone”
And I wake up
To the bikinis on the banks
And the landscape of your chosen words
And the cricket they served me in courses.

Now I’m quite sure you knew of
Tony Greig and yourself
Sharing
In addition to the Channel 9 box
A birthday
You may even have known
Of Morne Morkel being an October 6 born
But how could you know
It was the four of us all along?
Two down, two to go.

This is the death
This is the death of a gentleman
This is the death
This is the death of Test cricket’s man
This is the death
This is the death of Kerry Packer’s man
This is the death
This is the death of the cricket man
The is the death
This is the death of the voice man
This is the death
Of someone who was seldom not his own man
This is the death
This is the death of a gentleman
 


A gentleman, just finishing, 84 years of age...baggy green number 190
Bill’s best mate...father, husband, fighter, friend....inspiration
Richie Benaud, forever rest in peace, sir.


If you strain your ears some
You’ll hear him call
“That’s Stumps.”



Hat tip – Death of a Gentleman is the title of a film by Sampson Collins, Jarrod Kimber and Johnny Blank. 
 

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